


BLACK BUTLERS, RETURN

by galateabellator



Category: Kuroshitsuji (2014), Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3563462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galateabellator/pseuds/galateabellator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Countess Evelyn Waldram is not your average noble-woman. She has a few dark secrets, related to Phantomhive Manor, and Sebastian Michaelis, everyone's favorite Black Butler. When the thief mistress, Adrielle Roseville, requests from this woman to bring the Trancy butler back for a long-lasting debt, there will be Hell to pay... and the most difficult contract to break. </p><p>The story-line is set between seasons 2 and 3 of the "Kuroshitsuji" anime :) </p><p>The Countess Evelyn Waldram belongs to me. Adrielle Roseville belongs to :icono-ironical-o:, my friend from DeviantArt. </p><p>DEVIANT ART LINK TO THIS WORK: http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/gallery/52192880/KUROSHITSUJI</p><p>Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Butler, In Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No snakes were actually harmed during the creation of this fanfiction :D Also, let's pretend that Evelyn's Latin is perfect :P :D

BLACK BUTLERS - First Butler, In Ritual (pt. 1)  
by galateabellator, Dec 10, 2014, 3:18:22 PM  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

_Warning: This chapter mentions a ritual sacrifice of a reptile. Proceed with precaution, and read on your own responsibility. But hey, this is KUROSHITSUJI, you are used to some pretty weird stuff if you are reading this! ^^_

**CHAPTER 1 - FIRST BUTLER, IN RITUAL**

It was raining heavily outside.

Adrielle was lucky to be inside of a spacious house when the storm hit… and she was now sitting on a comfortable, beige colored leather armchair, holding a white ceramic teacup in her lap. The pattern on the cup was floral, done in a very stylish manner. These kinds of things were very popular with the aristocrats, though all the flowers were similar to Adrielle and she couldn’t care less for the design. Those colorful plants appeared everywhere – on dresses, on tapestry, on furniture… it was all so boring. Adrielle added a teaspoon of honey into the first-grade jasmine tea she was slowly drinking, and mixed through the liquid a few times. And while she didn’t particularly care about the cup, she cared about the handle and the spoon – both seemed to be made of gold. Of the real gold. And knowing the financial state of the lady who owned these, her assumption was probably right.

Adrielle just loved shiny and valuable things. Those could bring money, and keep her from starvation. However… those things also made her go into different kinds of troubles. Some of them were pretty bad, but nothing she couldn’t get out of. Or so she thought before invading the Trancy household, and before she tried to escape from it with a golden medallion in the pocket of her dress. 

She is wearing the same dress now, in fact. The blue/black one, to fit her mood. Was it just a coincidence, or a subconscious message from her own mind? She shook her head in disapproval, removing the red locks of her hair from her face. It wasn’t the time for desperation, she had her fare share of that when the young master Alois died… along with his butler, Claude Faustus, and the maid, Hannah Anafeloz.

Well, it was never Adrielle’s intention to stay with such a sadistic, whiny little boy, or his masochistic and mistreated maid, and certainly not with obviously dangerous, and over-capable butler, but… she had to, in order to pay back for that damned medallion. Mr. Claude practically forced her, in a passive-aggressive way. There was a threat somewhere in there too, so Adrielle didn’t really have a choice. Besides, she was intrigued. They seemed like an interesting group of people. She grew fond of all of them after the time she’s spent in the Trancy service, where she worked as a maid, and occasionally as a cook. There wasn’t a speck of dust while she was cleaning, that was for sure… and there were no better sweets and cakes in the whole London. Well, if we disregard the Phantomhive manor, that is.

“Miss Roseville?” 

She turned around. The dull-looking maid offered her rose-petal drop scones, but she refused, and just took another sip of the tea. 

“Lady Waldram is ready for you. I’ll escort you to her cabinet,” the servant announced. It was high time. Adrielle put the teacup on the small, wooden table in front of her, and corrected her gown while standing up. She followed the gloomy man through a long corridor, until he stopped in front of a wide black-oak door, and opened them for her. 

Adrielle went in, and approached the broad, wooden desk. The girl… no, the woman was sitting behind it, leaned onto the rest of a comfortable armchair with a crimson-rose pattern on it. Her black hair was longer than Adrielle remembered, but she still had that single, white lock inside of it. She wasn’t ordinary female by any means, and you could tell just by looking at her. Yet again, Adrielle wasn’t either.

The brown darkness of Countesses’ eyes met the blue of Adrielle’s own, and the young noblewoman smiled broadly to her, and offered her the seat in front. Cards were covering the surface of the desk. She already did the reading, huh?

“It’s good to see you, master-thief. Did you obtain it?” her voice was soft, but somehow eerie. If Death had a voice, Adrielle was sure that it was similar to lady Waldram’s. She went straight to the point, and that’s what Adrielle loved about her. 

“Why don’t you tell me, Countess? You are the one who can read Tarot, after all,” she smiled pleasantly to her. The Countess just collected the cards and put them in the deck. 

“There’s no pleasure in knowing everything. I like to be surprised from time to time.”

“Are you saying that you doubt me then, Evelyn? I might get offended,” Adrielle addressed her by her first name, reaching for the inside of the long pocket, and pulling the sharp, silver blade, decorated with ominous, complicated signs. She handed it to the Countess, who thoroughly examined the object before saying…

“My, my… it appears to be genuine. Well done, Adrielle. I knew I could rely on you.” 

“Well now, I need to rely on you, Evelyn. It’s a very serious matter so I need to know… can you do it or not?” she asked, the worry written in all those words. 

“Oh, dear… if you doubt my skills… it’s probably better you find another deviant soul to do this job for you,” the Countess teased. 

“That’s a wrong way to reassure your partner, lady Waldram,” Adrielle crossed her arms, waiting for Evelyn to stop messing around and get the job done. The Countess just chuckled. 

“As I’ve already explained… I can only bring one. As young Mr. Trancy was devoured by that female demon, there’s no point in trying. Too much strength is required for that, and I would have to do some very… ugly things in the process. The demonessa doesn’t inspire me either. Besides… out of them three… I suspect that Mr. Faustus was… your favorite.”

Adrielle glared at lady Waldram, and sighted shortly after. Now, now… it wasn’t the good time to argue.

“Just… bring him back if you can.” Adrielle knew – the thing she was asking of the Countess was close to impossible. However, there was a tiny chance that Madame Waldram could help with bringing the spider-demon back. She was extremely good at witchcraft and flirted with dark side too many times… so, if Evelyn can’t bring him back… no one will be able to. It’s Adrielle’s duty to at least try to persuade her. 

“Are you sure that you really want that, Adrielle? There are enough demons in this ugly world. Maybe it’s for the best if you…”

“Evelyn. We’ve agreed to do this, there’s no turning back now.” Adrielle reminded her bitterly. “Unless, you have changed your mind?” 

The Countess just shook her head, and gave her one wicked smile. 

\- - - - - - 

“The results should appear as soon as I finish. You don’t have to stay here anymore, since you’ve obtained the last item I required. You can go now. I’ve prepared the carriage to drive you home…”

“No. I want to be here. I want to witness it.” Adrielle was determined. She wanted to see all of it, no matter how scary or gruesome it might be. The noblewoman looked like she might argue, but she let it go. They were running out of time. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Lady Waldram added, once again, but the young thief remained stubborn. Therefore, the Countess began her necromancy-based ritual. 

First, she pulled out four black candles, and lit them. Then, she took the chalk from her desk, and drew the circle between candles, onto the table surface. She started drawing small objects, similar to runes, then multiplied them, and filled the lines within… ultimately decorating the complicated shape which was similar to pentagram, but varied a bit from the original design. Adrielle recognized it as one of the contract seals.

Evelyn placed the pair of glasses in the center, and the thief-girl knew too well to whom they belonged… because she was the one to fetch the object for lady Waldram in the first place. The Countess also added the medallion next to them… the same medallion Adrielle once tried to steal from Alois. It was a token, memento which reminded her of Claude. Evelyn also needed gold for this ritual. She said it was for the darkness. The darkness was corruptible. 

“Mundus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur… Siste, viator. Siste, Pandemonium.”

Evelyn’s voice changed, as she spoke those words. She was chanting in Latin, placing her hands upon the objects. The small lights of candles trembled, like they were dancing on tops. The medallion started melting, and the golden liquid spread over the lines of the demonic symbol. 

“Mors tua certa, hora incerta est.”

Her voice got stronger, and deeper, her eyes turned into radiant, bright yellow. She was staring in the center of the circle with those eyes, as if something might appear in it. Adrielle almost screamed when she saw the giant, black snake, crawling onto the table. 

“Mors tua, vita suus est. Revocatio obscurum tua…”

Evelyn grabbed the snake, squeezed its head, and stared into its eyes. The creature was hissing, and hissing, and hissing… its tongue was flicking. It was scared. Scared of this woman. With right. The Countess took the silver knife she prepared for this… the edge was sharp, and shiny… and Adrielle turned her eyes away as Evelyn chopped snake’s head off. The circle started burning as the lifeless body of that reptile curved around the center of the symbol. 

“A tenebris ad ego vocandum tibi, Claude Faustus!” her voice echoed like a thousand voices in unison - it was both powerful, and terrifying at the same time. 

Adrielle shuddered, but this was noting comparing to snake-mutilation. The fire got down again.

The Countess then sliced her own palm with a demon-dagger Adrielle obtained for her, and let the blood flow over the circle. The cut was deep; the blood was thick, and dark crimson. It started filling the grey chalk marks.

“A mors ego liberatem te!” she practically screamed, and the strong wind had risen from the contract seal, emitting a large force. The blood was flowing. The smoke and ashes formed Claude’s face, but it dispersed through the same way it appeared.

“ARISE, I COMMAND THE! ARISE FROM THE NOTHINGNESS!” Evelyn’s voice reached the ultimate crescendo. After her performance… the spider appeared. Just like that… out of the circle, out of nothing. Claude’s glasses weren’t there anymore, though. Nor was a medallion. Not to mention the black snake, or those candles. Just a spider. 

It started running, fast, over the edge of the desk. Evelyn let him go, pulling the handkerchief out of her sleeve, and wrapped it around her bleeding palm.

“You owe me, Spider…” she said, and her eyes finally stopped glowing. They got back to dark-brown, “… and I just love when demons owe me.” 

There were no marks on the table, no proof left about what happened only a few moments ago. Adrielle could have dreamed the whole thing just the same.

\- - - - - - - - 

“I knew you were good… but not demon-necromancy-resurrection-thing good. I think I am afraid of you after all,” Adrielle said, coming to her senses after the ritual was completed.

“I might believe you. I am sometimes afraid of myself,” Evelyn admitted, and pressed the handkerchief harder against her palm. The blood was still flowing, she cut in too deep. 

“So, that was… that was Mr. Claude?” the thief-girl wanted to confirm. 

“Indeed. He just appeared in one of his demon-forms, as he was too weak to regain his human appearance. He was wounded by the demon-sword before he perished. He still feels the pain of dying. Naturally, his wound will fade, since I reverted his death… but, it will take some time to heal,” Evelyn explained. 

“Where do you think he went?” Adrielle was curious. She had too many questions.

“Who knows. It’s better to leave him be,” the Countess responded grimly. “But worry not, my dear. He shall return to me. He knows the way these things work. My blood indebted him, and creatures such as Claude Faustus… hate to be in debt.”

Adrielle could tell only by knowing his personality.

“What now?” she asked the noblewoman. “What are we to do now?” 

Evelyn was thinking for a while, and then gave another response.

“Now, we wait. The Spider is very upset at this point and his mind is in chaos. He can’t tell who he is, nor what he is, and I imagine his conscious must be clouded by the pain. But, it will all pass in a few days and he will remember. When he does, he shall come to me. And, since one butler’s returned - I will have him locate the other.”

“Oh… so that’s why you risked to revive Mr. Claude. You intended… to look for Sebastian Michaelis, and the Phantomhive Lord.” Adrielle was wondering why would Evelyn just grant her the almost-impossible wish without asking much in return.

“Those two need to be fixed. Immediately. But I don’t know where they are, nor can I go to demon realm without a help of a demon… so… I will use Trancy’s butler to find them for me.” 

“How can you be so sure that he'll obey you?” Adrielle asked about the most troublesome thing. You have to be careful when making a deal with the devil, even when you dwell in the occult as deep and as much as the Countess did. 

“Rest assured, my dear. Dark creatures are my specialty, after all. Besides… I will have you to tame him in my place.” She will… what? 

“Wh… how?” 

Evelyn pressed her forefinger against her lips. 

“Patience. You shall see.” 

“You became a very cunning woman, Evelyn Waldram,” Adrielle smiled, and the Countess did the same. 

“I’ve always been cunning; it’s just that I’ve decided to be honest about it with you.”

“Well, I shall keep in my mind not to cross you. Ever.” 

“I am deeply humbled.” Evelyn noted. “And I shall not forget things you do for me.”

That was the truth. Evelyn highly appreciated Adrielle’s special ability - to collect things from others in a way they wouldn’t notice until it was too late, and until she was too far for them to get those back. Also, Evelyn had quite the collection of items she wouldn’t want stolen by this girl… AND Adrielle also knew some of the Countess’s dirtiest little secrets. Therefore, the Countess kept in her own mind not to cross Adrielle Roseville either.

Both of these girls knew better than to go against one another. But, ever since they’ve met, Adrielle was extremely loyal to the Countess, who protected her and helped her when in need so there was no bad blood between the two, and they worked quite well together. 

There was nothing in this world the Countess appreciated more than loyalty… and despised more than betrayal. Those who betrayed her didn’t get to live to brag about it. 

“I shall go, then. Please… when Mr. Claude appears, write to me. I’d like to know that he’s well,” Adrielle put her black cloak around her shoulders, and put her leather gloves on. 

“I will. But, you should stay here tonight. That storm is quite strong.” Evelyn warned her friend.

“I will be fine. Besides… someone is waiting for me.” 

“As you wish, Adrielle. Oh, and, before I forget… you can keep it.” Evelyn Waldram smirked. 

“I can… what?” Adrielle blinked innocently. Twice. 

“Keep that golden tea-spoon you snatched from my parlor, earlier. You are welcome.” 

Adrielle wasn’t even embarrassed by these statements. 

“Oh, I know. You've always hated those.”

“That, I did. Take care.”

“You too.”

Adrielle waved at her, and abandoned the dark mansion followed by the thunderstorm. You could say it was one Hell of a night, and it has only… just begun.


	2. FIRST BUTLER, LIVES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The focus moves onto Miss Roseville, and our charming Spider in this chapter... but don't worry! Sebastian will appear soon! :) 
> 
> P.S. Adrielle and Claude had fun while filming scenes of this fanfiction. Those weren't creepy or anything. :P :D

BLACK BUTLERS - First Butler, Lives (pt. 2)  
by galateabellator, Dec 20, 2014, 9:22:36 AM  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

_Warning: Proceed with precaution, and read on your own responsibility. There's one ~~hot~~ creepy demon who plays with his tongue in this chapter. NO mature filter this time, don't worry! :'):P ^^_

**CHAPTER 2 - FIRST BUTLER, LIVES**

The storm raged through London, and the Thames threatened to flood the nearby areas of the Capital. Adrielle spent hours roaming the streets, cursing into her cloak as the water soaked all of her clothes. She felt stupid. Naïve. How could she allow them to cross her like this? Again? She was mad. And disappointed. However, she was aware of this possibility when she left the Waldram manor, and still went after the trail. 

“Take care,” she remembered those words Evelyn told to her, before she left the manor. And the Countess didn’t say those words as a courtesy of following her precious guest out, she realized. Such a casual choice of words, in a casual situation… but Evelyn warned her. And she should have listened. However, Adrielle was too excited to listen to her. She got a lead, and she wanted it to be true. So desperately. The hope will destroy her one day. 

The East End was the same as she remembered. The same lair of thugs, criminals, and outcasts. The poor people who couldn’t live normal lives, who were born in the dirt, raised in the dirt, and died in the dirt. She was glad she could escape such fate… but that same fate brought her back to her childhood home. Ironical, wasn’t it? 

That’s the curse of being born into the East End, and following the tradition of your family - you do things to survive, and those things came to haunt you even when you try to find a new, decent life. Some things never fade off, never abandon you, and the very core of your being can’t change no matter how hard you try to leave some old habits behind and be someone else. 

Her heart was aching now… the information she’s got proved to be another dead end. Another trap, set by those who wanted to lure her out and sell her to the Yard, who’d throw her into jail before she could say ‘biscuit’. And Adrielle doubted that in jail they served the quality tea, or biscuits. 

“Damn you, Evelyn… be precise next time you try to warn me about something.”

But, the Countess was like that. It was her sense of humor, but she wouldn’t let Adrielle go into a conflict she can’t win. Evelyn Waldram saved her life more than once, and she never let her get even remotely close to jail. If she doubted that Adrielle will get caught, she’d make her stay in her manor. She’d make sure that Adrielle stays out of reach of those who could harm her. 

This was… just a way to teach her a lesson. After all, Adrielle wasn’t completely honest with Countess tonight. She told her she was going to meet someone, but she didn’t mention that person had something to do with East End. Or with criminals of the London Underground. She wanted to hide that from Evelyn, but the noblewoman knew… and smirked right to her face. Well… fair enough. 

“Lesson learned, you damn woman,” Adrielle muttered. 

The Tarot cards Evelyn read hours before… weren’t opened because Evelyn wanted to see the results of her damn ritual, or whether she could bring Claude back or not. She knew she will bring him back, Adrielle figured… and what the cunning noblesse was reading in the damn Tarot, were Adrielle’s plans, and she has seen the events that will occur. 

That have occurred, to be precise now. And she let Adrielle go anyway. 

“Thank you, Evelyn,” she whispered to thin air. Lady Waldram knew just how much it meant to Adrielle to do things in her own way, without supernatural assistance. This was personal, and something the young thief had to do on her own. Evelyn understood, and didn’t get in her way, even if she could. And for that, Adrielle was grateful. It seemed that Evelyn knew her even better than she previously thought.

But, Adrielle felt hopeless once again. She was chasing the mist, and grew tired of it. False alarms, false hope, false leads, false friends… it drove her crazy. She wanted to cry, but if she does, that will mean that she gave up, and that she lost all of her hope. And she didn’t. 

She walked towards the nearest carriage. Tomorrow is the new day, and she can start searching again. She can’t give up. Ever. He was the most important person, and she will never, ever lose hope that she will meet him once again, no matter how hard that may be. 

“To the Trancy manor,” she said, and the man looked at her in awe. There were many rumors about that spooky place. He wanted to say something, but Adrielle raised an eyebrow. She pulled out a few golden coins, and paid to the coachman in advance.

“Drive. Please.” 

He nodded, and Adrielle closed the door, and pulled the curtains on the window. The Trancy manor got a new owner, an owner who didn’t have blood relation to Alois (or, if we want to be exact, to Jim Macken. The boy who posed as the infamous Trancy Earl didn’t have any remaining living relatives, so the Crown could do whatever it pleased with his enormous estate). 

Therefore, The Queen gave Trancy manor to lady Waldram, who was member of Aristocrats of Evil, and currently in charge of this group, even if she wasn’t a member of the Phantomhive family. And Evelyn made one Hell of a leader. 

The carriage stopped in front of a familiar place, which Adrielle used to call home, back when she was in Trancy’s employment. 

“We are here, m’lady,” the coachman opened the door for her and helped her to get out. Adrielle shrugged in front of the main gate, looking at the grim villa. 

“Thank you for your service,” she said, and gave him additional few coins for his trouble. Then, she opened the gate and went in. She had so many memories of this place, both good and bad. She could hear that eerie laughter of young master, his footsteps… his cries. 

Alois… no… Jim was never happy here. He was tormented his whole life, he was abused and humiliated, and all he wanted… was a bit of gentleness. A bit of love, from anyone… from Claude in particular. Hannah loved Jim, but it wasn’t enough for that boy until the very end. 

Aside his sadistic nature… the young master had fragile emotions, was very weak, and was a coward. He wasn’t someone Adrielle would normally love, or feel empathetic towards. He was a cruel child, someone dangerous, and spoiled, and even spiteful. However, underneath all these aspects of his personality… he was just a young boy. A child, taken by the darkness since his earliest days. Adrielle ultimately felt sorry for him, understood his pain, and wanted to help him. But she couldn’t. He was already lost to his darkness.

She walked through the narrow, cold corridor, and went into salon, where she removed layers of her soaked, wet clothes. She was surprised to see that her shoulder was still bleeding… one of her persecutors slashed her with his knife, before she buried her own into his eye. She grimaced when she removed the sleeve. The fabrics were stained with blood. What a mess. She tore off the fabrics and wrapped it around the cut. 

She decided to fully-attend to her wound as soon as she changes her clothes and gets warm. She started a fire in the fireplace, and sat in front of welcoming heat. She was about to put all of her clothes down, when she heard a noise… barely audible, and slight… but noise nevertheless. Her senses heightened. 

Someone was in the house. In shadows. Near her. She reacted, according to her instincts… but it was too slow comparing to other person. It was matter of seconds, really. Someone pinned her down and she pulled the knife she was always carrying, and put it against her attacker’s throat. But he was already on top. 

The pair of sharp, golden eyes gazed down to meet hers. They were familiar, and almost welcoming. Almost. His black hair was parted on the right side, soaked from the rain so a few drops fell onto her face when he moved to cage her. His legs blocked her own, he wrapped his calves into hers. His left arm was pressed against her belly, holding her to the floor, and his other, spare hand was wrapped around her neck. His fingers felt cold against her skin. He was choking her. 

“Claude…” she whispered, pressing the blade further into his neck, just before drawing blood. The upper part of his body was bare, so she found herself staring at his exposed chest. The wound from demon sword, Leviathan, was still visible, and still horrid. It must have hurt like Hell… as Evelyn predicted it would. 

“Claude!” she called him once again, as his body pressed even harder against her own, sending shivers down her spine. This was… very uncomfortable. Extremely embarrassing. The look in his eyes reflected madness which was still consuming him. He wasn’t aware what he was doing. His face got down, to hers, and he inhaled the smell of the woman beneath him.

“Soul… a delicious… soul…” he whispered, and leaned too close to her. He smelled the blood from her wound. It had almost stopped flowing, but the flesh was torn, and the smell was still raw. The demon sensed it. He was consumed by the aroma. He was hungry. Desperately hungry…

“Stop it, Claude…” But, Claude couldn’t stop. The prey was in front of him, and he was starving. His long tongue parted his lips, and Adrielle sensed something wet, and warm against her wound. Against her skin. Did he just… 

“STOP IT, CLAUDE!” 

She slapped him, quite hard, and the demon’s eyes shone with that eerie, purple glow. He was staring at her, his lips colored by her blood, and he licked the rest in one slow, dangerous motion. His tongue was long. Abnormally long. It was so… disturbing. So upsetting. So… thrilling. 

“I want you… I want… that soul of yours, human… I want… that delicious… soul of yours…”

She has over-thrown him, and almost managed to get up, but he used a single, white thread to pull her down, right onto his body. “I will give you whatever you want… I will make any wish of yours come true… just give me…” 

He wasn't himself. Claude… wasn't himself.

“You can’t have it. My soul is my own!” she screamed. The knife in her hand rose to his chest. “I will hurt you, Claude. Don’t make me,” she said, her arms shaking, but her mind was strong. “This is a demon-blade. I will use it if you don’t stop. So STOP! Now!” She threatened. 

Claude’s eyes were still glowing. “I am hungry… it hurts… too much… give me that soul of yours… human…” 

Adrielle hit him in his chest wound, previously made by Sebastian Michaelis, and re-made by Evelyn Waldram. This should remind him of how painful the death can be. He roared, and released Adrielle from his grip, and curled down into a fetal position. 

“I will give you whatever you want… whatever… you want… just…”

His hand reached towards Adrielle, who wasn’t sure what to do next. 

Remember, Claude… you have to remember who you are. Who you were. Please… 

“Day into night, sugar into salt, living to dead, and silver into gold,”she spoke the motto he was living by in his last contract.

His eyes turned at her, once again, the hint of recognition painted on his face. Like he found something in those words.

“Day into night, sugar into salt, living to dead, and silver into gold,” she repeated. “Have you forgotten, Claude? Have you forgotten everything that happened?” She held her knife close. She was ready to do whatever it takes… even wounding him again, with lethal blade. That will be… the only way to get out of this situation if he doesn’t come to his senses. 

“That’s what makes a Trancy butler,” he whispered. “That’s what makes… me… a butler…”

The glow in his eyes disappeared. He looked down on his wound. Then, he glanced at Adrielle. 

“Claude?” she called him softly. 

“Miss Roseville, I apologize. I overstepped. You won’t have to use that against me, because I won’t harm you,” he said, finally aware of the person in front of him. She offered her hand to him, to help him get up. He took it. He was staring at his own body.

“You were the one who brought me back.” He said, shocked by this idea. 

“It wasn’t me. It was a certain woman who needs your assistance with something,” Adrielle told him, and Claude removed the lock of his hair from his face.

“The Crimson Woman. Countess Waldram,” he wasn’t too happy about it. He covered his eyes with his palm. “Yes… I remember her. But she did it only because she needed a favor. You were the one who wanted to bring me back. Why?” 

Now, a girl can not reveal all her secrets just like that, can she? 

“Because of my debt. To young master. To you,” she said. Why did it sound so… stupid after she spoke those words? “With this, I can finally be free. After all… I’ve done the impossible. I consider that my debt is paid, and that I am no longer bound to you.”

Claude was silent for a few moments. “Was it so horrid, being bound to me?” he asked. 

Adrielle didn’t immediately respond. “Not all the time.”

“You could just leave me in the netherworld. You didn’t have to bring me back. Why go through all that trouble just to erase one debt?” 

“It was a debt I owed you for life. I couldn’t live with that,” she said. “Besides, you are a demon. You wouldn’t understand,” she added. 

And it was partially true. How could someone like him understand the real reason she brought him back? He never would. So, there’s no need to tell him. 

Claude remained silent to her response. After not knowing what to say, he simply went into another room, to change his clothes or… whatever a resurrected demon needed to do, really.

Adrielle changed her own into the nightgown, then sat in front of the fireplace, letting her hair dry. Evelyn told her it would take days for Claude to recover from his wounds, from his pain, and to break through his resurrection… but… it took him just a few hours.  
He was stronger than Evelyn assumed he’d be. And Adrielle didn’t know whether that was a good thing, or an extremely bad one. Besides… Claude is the demon without contract now. Even if he owes to Evelyn… he is still free to make a Faustian contract with another soul. 

The thought terrified Adrielle. 

When Claude got back… he was carrying a medical-kit. He sat next to girl, and looked at her wound. It wasn’t deep, but she will still need bandages. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Adrielle insisted.

“Please, stay still and let me take care of your wound. It’s the least I can do,” the demon said. 

“Are you suggesting that I can’t take care of myself?” Adrielle argued. 

“I am simply telling that I would do this better than you,” Claude explained.

“You do everything better than me, but that’s just because you are a demon!”

“Maybe. Whatever the case… just let me fix that.” 

“You will need your glasses. You know, for a demon, you are quite disabled.” 

“I am not, it’s a preference. Now… regarding my glasses… I can’t seem to find any in the household.”

“I’ve used the last pair for a ritual. We will buy you new ones.”

Claude did just fine without them. He cleaned her wound quite well, and though it sting a bit, his touch was gentle and precise. After he finished with cleaning, he wrapped a nice, dry bandage over her cut. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“You are welcome. Tell me now, Miss Roseville… what does such a powerful woman as Evelyn Waldram need from someone like me? Isn't her own magick strong enough to get her whatever she wants?”

“Apparently not. I am not sure I should be the one to tell you that.” Adrielle admitted. “Besides… I doubt you will like it.” 

She let those words to sink in. 

“Why?” Claude had to ask, though he had a pretty good idea.

“Well… it involves Sebastian Michaelis.” Adrielle said, and Claude frowned, his assumption confirmed. There wasn’t a damn chance he would do anything to help that demon, even if it was required by the Countess who brought him to life. He took Ciel Phantomhive’s soul in the end of that damned duel. Claude still remembered the pain of dying. 

And he would rather die again than be involved with the crow-demon, or his lovely, devil-consort for that matter. She can damn him back straight to Hell, as long as he is concerned... but he won’t lift one finger to help Michaelis.


	3. Second Butler, Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn always gets what she wants, one way or another. She also loves to sing to creep out people :D

BLACK BUTLERS - Second Butler, Trapped (pt. 3)  
by galateabellator, 1 week, 8 minutes ago  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

_Warning: Claw-wounds everyone, you might not like it, but it's not horrible as it sounds... really xD_

**CHAPTER 2 - SECOND BUTLER, TRAPPED**

**WALDRAM MANOR, two hours after midnight**

_She was staring in the smooth surface, searching. Pictures moved in front of her, changing, slipping away, then re-appearing again. She caught a few with her mind’s eye, and let those unnecessary images go. She focused on those which were promising._

_In a place so far away, in dimension beyond any human recognition, she finally saw what she was looking for. In darkness, thicker than night, stood a spacious castle. It was surrounded by large quickset, made from long, sharp thorns that crawled around the walls, completely shielding it from intruders. Some of those thorns were the size of a regular demon, one could say._

_The castle itself was made from the grey stone, had no windows, and had a single entrance. She didn’t hesitate for a moment… she headed straight to it. She reached for a doorknob, but the door opened for her so she made a few steps, searching further._

_The air was freezing her lungs, the stone was cold under her bare feet, and her white, lace nightgown was swaying and rustling as she was moving. Shadows were moving with her. Glowing red eyes, hissing and scratching followed her with every step, probably to scare her away… but she was walking further and deeper in the thick darkness nevertheless._

_The room she entered next was completely black, but her radiant, yellow eyes saw through. A boy was sitting on the throne, the ankle of his right leg crossed over the knee of his left one. His right arm supported his head, and he was leaned back onto his throne-chair._

_“I should have known,” the demon that once was Ciel Phantomhive whispered. “You couldn’t just let it go, could you?”_

_“Where is he?” the witch asked. Her voice was strict, and firm._

_“SEBASTIAN!” the boy roared, and the movement through the corridor was sharp and fast. It cut through the air, and passed next to her, and stopped in front of his master’s legs._

_The crow-demon bowed down._

_“Yes, my Lord?” the soft voice was melancholic, obedient, and broken. It sent shivers down her spine. The witch was staring at boy, and at poor creature who now served him for the rest of eternity._

_“You know what to do,” little demon cocked his head in her direction, giving a silent order to his servant. And only then… the pair of sharp, red eyes turned to face her own. His lips parted as he recognized the only other soul he could never devour, aside master Phantomhive. He left out a gasp._

_Abellona…_

_In the next moment, his claw pierced her abdomen, and she felt the blood sprouting out of her mouth, and leaned back into his arms as the demon named Sebastian gently took her before she fell. The crimson liquid spread over the white lace, blooming all over her snow-white gown._

_“I am coming for you. Both of you,” she swore, and the second thrust went right through her heart, making it burst._

Evelyn Waldram woke up with a wince; she was greedily inhaling the air, still feeling the sharp pain in her torso. She removed the locks of her dark, thick hair from her face and looked at her own reflection in a large mirror. She recalled the picture of Ciel. 

Her lips formed a wicked grin. 

__

“One eye purple, other red,  
Demon-boy, it’s time for bed.  
Don’t ignore what I’ve just said,  
If you want to keep your head…”

 

With that, she chuckled loudly. A few servants who were still awake, shuddered with horror.

\- - - - - - - - - 

**TRANCY MANOR, early in the morning**

The rest of the night wasn’t as bad as Adrielle expected it would be.

She presumed that Claude would be angry with her after she brought up the subject on Sebastian Michaelis, but the spider-demon was surprisingly calm, yet determined that he wouldn’t help Countess Waldram in her plans. 

Evelyn did say that Claude’s emotions would be a mess, but that he will eventually come around. However, it seemed more difficult than she had previously imagined. Claude didn’t want to get involved in the Phantomhive story again, and Adrielle couldn’t blame him. So, she didn’t disturb him further, but she knew that the Countess won’t allow him to deny her. The girl was interested in what will happen next, because she knew Evelyn.

No human, no demon, not even a God himself could stop Evelyn Waldram when she intended to obtain something, or finish whatever she had planned.

Adrielle suggested to Claude to help her restore the Trancy mansion to its previous glory. He accepted, and was now occupied with arranging the furniture, and Adrielle was cleaning one of the large mirrors in the hallway - a recent addition to the interior which Countess required soon upon receiving the spacious manor from the Queen. 

Evelyn was really fond of that mirror, but Adrielle despised it. No matter how many times the girl tried to properly clean the glass, it turned as dirty and dusty as when she started. It annoyed the Hell out of her. Some things simply can’t be cleaned, not even by the most determined clean-freaks (which Adrielle Roseville was, among many other things). 

The mirror was obviously antique and worth a lot, but it wasn’t one of the kind. Evelyn kept exactly the same mirror in her cabinet, the one which seemed equally old and dirty as this one. It was bad addition to any manor, if you ask Adrielle. 

Claude completely ignored that mirror, which was strange since he was usually very thorough in cleaning and re-arranging things. The girl also got the impression that he was avoiding looking at it. 

Soon, it became clear why. Adrielle saw the glimpse of a moving shadow in the mirror which would terrify any normal, usual girl. Adrielle was neither. She turned her head, looking for a movement behind her, but she was right to presume that only the reflection within mirror moved. Well, moving shadows weren’t her biggest problem, she had already faced dozen of those on her night quests. 

Adrielle rolled her eyes, sighted, and waited for the shadow to appear again. 

The dark fume rose to her size, circling, and forming a dark shape. It was humming a song.

__

“Little Miss Muffet  
Sat on a tuffet,  
Eating of curds and whey…”

 

The nursery rhyme sounded eerie and haunting when the soft, creepy voice sung it, and it sent shivers down Adrielle’s spine. That was not a child’s song anymore, not in this interpretation. It would easily scare the normal human away.

__

“…Along came a **spider** ,  
Who sat down beside her,  
**And frightened Miss Muffet away** …”

 

The black fume dispersed, revealing the rich, silk, dark green gown with a silver lace on sleeves, shoulders, and around the high collar. The hair was as black as night, formed in thick, curvy waves down the slim, feminine figure. Evelyn Waldram’s dark eyes were staring at Adrielle’s, and her soft, dark lips formed a small, mocking smile. 

“Or should I say… frightened Miss Roseville away instead?” 

“Very funny, you damn witch. VERY FUNNY.” Adrielle crossed her arms. “But you certainly know how to make a theatrical appearance, I’ll give you that.”

“Why, thank you.” Evelyn’s reflection gazed upon the hallway. “Where’s our dear Spider?”

“Mr. Claude Faustus refuses to cooperate.” Adrielle stated. Evelyn rose an eyebrow. 

“Well, order him to cooperate. I have no time to lose.” 

“Are you even listening to yourself, Evelyn? How can I possibly order him anything?” the thief-mistress was good with persuading humans into doing things for her, but Claude was an entirely different species. He was very hard to cooperate with too, being stubborn and cunning.

“The same way you restored him to being him in such a short time. He will listen to you.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You said he will be in debt to you and that he will know what that means. Claude refuses to help you and that’s final.”

“Change it, Adrielle. You made him stop when he was about to devour you, meaning that you have power over him and that my spell works better than I even hoped it would. You can command him in my stead.” Adrielle blinked. Twice. 

“You were spying on me? On us? Wait. Command him? In your stead? What the Hell did you do this time?” 

Evelyn lazily leaned closer to the surface of her own mirror. “I bounded him to you. In a demi-faustian contract. Have you ever heard about that?” 

“No. The whole thing with selling souls seems… well, you know. WHAT DID YOU DO?” 

Evelyn smiled. “Nothing.” 

Adrielle frowned. “Nothing. Really.” 

“Nothing serious,” Evelyn smiled devilishly, adding a poor explanation. 

“Just answer. I hate when you do this to me, giving me half-truths and weak arguments.”

“All right. I gave you a cup of jasmine tea while you were at my manor, and you drank it. I might have added a small powder-mix in that tea.” 

MIGHT? Dear God. 'Might' meant she’d done it nevertheless. Words ‘small’ and ‘powder-mix’, all in one sentence… that can’t be good.

“I thought that tea tasted weird, not to mention it wasn’t sweet enough,” Adrielle was furious now. “What did you do TO ME?”

“I’ve put you in demi-contract, obviously. Claude tasted your blood, blood which was filled with a certain herbal mixture and a little something... well, don’t worry, it’s completely organic, I didn’t add any dead rats or anything you’d hate…”

“That’s not the problem!” 

Though, the thought of parts of dead rats and bugs in her tea was absolutely disgusting. 

“The problem is you did it in the first place!”

“In my defense, I wasn’t even sure if that was going to work, because I didn’t know how Mr. Claude would react to you. It turned out that he is surprisingly attached to you, and that your bond is deeper than either of you is actually aware… which benefits me so well in the end. You serve me, he serves you, so I will control that demon butler through my dear friend.”

“Through? Dear friend? How come I am your dear friend when you did such a horrid thing to me?” Adrielle barked at Evelyn’s smiling face. 

“You would have said ‘yes’ if I asked you bluntly anyway, and I didn’t want to lose the precious time. Besides… I might be a powerful witch, but no witch can enter two parallel contracts, being partially human herself.”

“Let me correct you there, Mistress Waldram,” Claude’s voice was sharp as much as his gaze was, and equally unexpected. Adrielle watched him approaching, not sure what she’d say. Evelyn’s smirk grew wider, as the spider demon got closer. He took his place next to Adrielle. 

“You knew what this damned thing served for?” the thief-girl ultimately asked. The Trancy Butler nodded. “It’s one of the Nine Enchanted Mirrors. They usually serve for communication, allowing one person to communicate with another who possesses the same object.”

“See, Evelyn. That’s how you answer the damn question! What did you mean when you said that a witch can’t enter two parallel contracts anyway?”

“Well… technically, a witch could enter two contracts… but then, two demons start to compete for her soul, just like with humans, and it turns up to be a real mess. Except for, witches are stronger, and possess powers, so it’s harder for both demons to get their way. Whatever the case… Triumvirates never end well for obvious reasons. Triumvirates leave one creature discontent with the bargain.”

Claude’s sharp gaze turned at Evelyn. “You are a cautious one, aren’t you? Instead of entering the triumvirate, you make me and Miss Roseville unintentionally form a demi-contract… how clever. Not many witches today know how to perform that ritual. How much time did it take?”

“Three weeks before I resurrected you, really. It was hard to procure all the ingredients, and I wasn’t sure you will fall for Adrielle. But obviously… you grew to have feelings for our little maid.”

“It… it isn’t like that!” Adrielle was embarrassed by Evelyn’s remark. Her face turned red. “Claude is a demon, and he was hungry…”

“Claude could search for a soul, for any soul in this rain-soaked London tonight and offer a legitimate Faustian contract to anybody else. He was drawn to you instead, even before tasting your blood. Am I right, demon?” 

Claude didn’t answer. Evelyn smiled at him, and looked at Adrielle. 

“Before you accuse me of being horrid, you need to hear something. Demi-contracts aren’t dangerous, since he can’t have your soul. Trust me. I was in a demi-contract before and my soul was perfectly safe.”

“No soul is perfectly safe when in contract,” Claude corrected her, and Adrielle snapped.

“Did you hear that?! You are a damned spell-caster and the most powerful witch in London! It’s easy for you to play these games! Besides… you were in contract with Sebastian, Claude is a completely different story!” Adrielle covered her mouth with her hand after she said those words. “No offense.”

“None taken, Miss Roseville.”

“They are the same story, dear. One demon or another… that’s really all the same.” Evelyn’s tone was cold, and vicious this time. She wasn’t smiling anymore.

“I can assure you, madam, that we aren’t the same.” Claude said, his voice mirroring her own. 

“Who cares? Tell me, how am I safe from being devoured now?” Adrielle couldn't care less if these two couldn't find a common ground, her soul was at stake!

“Because demi-contract allows me to be passive master to Claude, while you are the active one. He desires you for your soul, so you are the perfect one for that role. We, in a way, substitute each other so he can’t decide whose soul is stronger and more desirable to devour. And while he can’t devour any of us, because I am anima clausa and you drank my blood with that tea… oh, my, I shouldn’t have, should I? Well, don’t overthink that, dear… his benefit from this devilish little bargain will be… a soul of an equal strength as mine for Claude. Will that do, Spider?” 

“No,” he was arrogant when he answered. Evelyn was still smiling, still staring in his eyes. Waiting. “But you revived me, so it will have to do,” he finally admitted.

“You damn witch!” Adrielle was furious. “I still refuse to have my soul exposed to any demon, ever!” 

“There, there, Adrielle… you get Claude to fulfill your wishes, it can’t be all that bad now, can it? You are perfectly safe. You have my word.” 

“I hate you,” the redhead stated stubbornly. 

“It’s only temporarily,” Evelyn smiled warmly, “you will get over it.”

The witch took a brush and went through her hair a few times, looking at her faded reflection aside Claude and Adrielle's images next to it. The glow in her eyes was yellow, and eerie.

“Now, get ready, both of you. I will be in the Trancy Manor in less than fifteen minutes, so don’t be late. We have a contract to break.”


	4. The Butler, The Maid, The Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude uses every opportunity he can get xD
> 
> http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-The-Butler-The-Maid-pt-3-5-527708574?ga_submit_new=10%253A1433966901&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1

**PART 3.5 – BLACK BUTLERS - The Butler, The Maid, The Temptation**

_Disclaimer: This is an extra-chapter because I have too much material for chapter 4, and I still wanted to keep Claude x Adrielle moments. Hence, the extra chapter between 3 and 4. I hope you enjoy it as well. :)_

If Evelyn said she would be there in fifteen minutes, that’s exactly what she will do. She was very punctual. Therefore, Adrielle rushed to change her clothes, and found a purple gown in former Countess Trancy’s wardrobe. She quickly replaced her working uniform with a new, decent, lady-like dress that fit her body proportions well. 

She had just finished putting the dress on, when Claude entered her room. She resisted to ask where his manners were, because she knew they were both in a hurry and she was still not ready, much to her discontent. Claude, on the other side, was already dressed - in his regular, standard, black butler-uniform, with white leather gloves and a new, shiny pair of black shoes.

Well, that man… demon… knew how to wear his uniforms. Or any other clothing, for that matter. Let’s face it… Claude could dress like a beggar and start roaming around the East End, searching for food or money, and still look amazing. It just wasn’t fair. 

He was still missing his glasses, and although he said that they weren’t really necessary to him, Adrielle suspected that he might actually need them due to the simple fact that he was _a spider demon_. Spiders weren’t known as species who had good eyes, no matter how many of them they possessed. _Quantity_ didn’t guarantee _quality_. 

“Mistress Waldram will be here in matter of minutes,” Claude stated, and Adrielle sighed because she didn’t need a reminder. The butler approached the girl, who was trying to brush her hair and put her shoes on, all in the same time. She was also struggling with buttons on back of her dress, those that started from her waist all the way up to her neck. It was annoying to wear proper lady-like gowns simply due to these reasons alone. They took too much time and required an additional set of hands to help. 

_Nobility. They really had to complicate everything, including clothes._

“You need to hurry up,” Claude insisted.

“The damn woman _knows_ I am not a magician. Or _a witch_ , for that matter,” she muttered. “I simply can’t manage to prepare that fast!”

“That’s why I am here, mistress Roseville,” the butler answered in his soft, unchanged voice. 

He took the brush from her hands and quickly braided her hair himself. She had to admit she never did it as well as Claude did it this time, but he was the specialist with braiding, knitting, sewing and anything where threads were involved (or needed to be intertwined, really).

Her hair was amazingly styled. She was almost embarrassed, but he was a demon, not an ordinary man, so it didn’t really count. But with that hair, with that dress… she could actually pose like nobility. Who would have thought? 

Yet again… Evelyn herself wasn’t always the noblewoman, but not a living soul could tell that she used to be a poor, East End bastard-girl once upon a time. She was Mistress Waldram now. 

And Adrielle was who, _Mistress Roseville_? She almost laughed.

_We’ve come far from that ugly, dirty place… haven’t we, Evelyn?_

“I am nobody’s mistress, Mr. Claude… especially not yours,” Adrielle stated. She didn’t feel like she could be someone who gives orders instead of receiving them. She used to be one of the Trancy maids, and Claude was her superior. Now, even if their roles somehow ended up reversed, she still couldn’t shake that feeling that he is the dominant one in this odd, new contract, regardless of what Evelyn said. Claude simply had that strong presence, and even if he was a servant too… he was the most dominant one that Adrielle has ever encountered. 

Even among the demon hierarchy, Claude was the leader-type. The triplets and Hannah, all demons of Trancy household, obeyed him without any objections. He was _an apex predator_ among his species… and the only one who could probably be considered his equal, was Sebastian Michaelis. Ironically, their mutual animosity most likely comes from their similarities.

Claude looked at his gloved, left hand, where his contract seal used to be, but was now empty. The demi-contract was just a form of original Faustian contract. It was a half-contract, and the seal wasn't needed when there wasn't a legitimate soul to devour. The substitute ones didn't count. 

“You _are_ my mistress, miss Roseville. We are bonded,” he reminded her in a cold manner. “Until _she_ decides to call that bond off, we have to stick to each other, whether we like it or not.”

Adrielle was glad to her the discontent in Claude's voice. He wasn't happy about being in this weird contract, maybe even more than she was.

“I guess you are right,” she responded. 

His hand reached for the buttons on the bottom of her waist. Having his fingers on her body made Adrielle feel uncomfortable again, even if he didn’t do anything disrespectful. He was just buttoning the damn dress, she knew that much. However, she felt _threatened_ around him, even if she wasn’t sure why.

Ever since he came back from the dead… Claude behaved strangely around her.

_Must be the cursed tea with blood of a bloody witch that made them both act so strange. Goodness grace, they are doomed. And it was Evelyn’s fault._

“You know what? I don’t have to get ready in time. Evelyn can wait, for all I care.” Adrielle was still upset because of the fact that Evelyn didn’t ask her before she made her and Claude form a demi-contract. 

“She probably won’t like it, so it would be wise to avoid unnecessary conflicts.” Claude got even closer to her, and she could feel his breath on her neck. It wasn’t the first time that Claude invades someone’s personal space. He invaded hers more times then she could count, last night included.

“Regarding me and her... whose orders would you fulfill if they were opposed? Whose side would you take?” she shuddered as he moved her hair from her neck to button the collar. He paused before answering. 

“That’s a very difficult thing to answer. Evelyn Waldram is my supreme contractor, but also my passive master. To disobey her… would mean that I don’t honor the demi-contract. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if she hasn’t revived me. This way… I owe her more than entering a demi-contract with you. And you… you are my active master, so technically, your requests must be fulfilled by me. However… you are also the taste of a promise which will never be fulfilled. A soul that I deeply desire to devour… but can’t. She has practically removed you from my grasp.” 

Adrielle begged to differ. There were several reasons for that. For example… although the girl was nowhere near being naked, Claude’s presence, touch, voice and his words made her feel like he could see all of her. Also, when he was this close, she felt like she ate something bad and like it still moved in her stomach. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think clearly. 

He had her in his grasp more than she was willing to admit. 

“She told you to find Sebastian. Let’s say that she also tells you to save him from some kind of danger, after she breaks his contract with Ciel. Let’s also say that I order you to kill Sebastian instead. Whose order would you obey?”

Claude got down on his knee and tied both of her shoelaces for her.  

“I would have to find a common ground. A demi-solution. I’d have to partially grant your request as well as part of hers, since they are mutually exclusive and none of them can be fulfilled as whole. It’s tricky that way, so don’t think too much about the whole thing, mistress Roseville. There’s a reason it’s called demi-contract. It’s half contract, something in between this and that… and no demon likes it. It allows to cunning witches to exploit the darkness in way they see fit, and to benefit from it.” 

He rose, and as he did, his hands closed around her waist. 

She felt… uneasy, to put it simply. And she didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t the first time. When she was alone with Claude, she felt some sort of unexplainable tension and an equal amount of embarrassment. He didn’t do anything to relieve her chaotic inner state, on the contrary. He only teased her more, for reasons unknown to her. 

Besides, the last time… she felt his tongue on her skin, and after that unfortunate event, the things between them somehow grew to be even more complicated. And Adrielle hated it. 

“Claude… what do you get in return?” her hands ended on his joints when she tried to remove his upper limbs away from her. She failed, because he was stronger. 

“In return?” he repeated. “I think that Countess Waldram was clear about that. I get a soul. Mistress is going to compensate me with another, one which has the similar taste and aroma as her own. _A soul of an equal quality as her own_. She will probably give me the soul of another witch.”

 _Yeah, like the souls of witches simply grow on trees, and you can take them wherever and whenever you want._ Naturally, she didn’t share these thoughts with Claude. She doubted he’d like to hear something like that.

“Oh, I am aware of her part. What do you get in return _from me_ , for my soul is out of your reach and yet you still have to follow my orders?” Adrielle wanted to be sure about terms. If she knew one thing about contracts and demons, it was that there’s always a price to pay, for everyone involved. 

“Who said that you have to give anything to me?” he asked, whispering closely to her ear. She could feel his lips against her earlobe. She could have sworn that he would try to take her soul in that very moment, forcefully if needed… but luckily for Adrielle, Evelyn’s blood forbade it. 

She looked straight into his sharp, golden eyes.

“No one did. But I know _you_ , and I know _Evelyn_. By the time she breaks Sebastian and Ciel’s contract, the demi-contract will end as well… and you two will turn against each other. I don’t want to be in the middle when things go that way. I don’t want to choose between you two.” 

“You mean, if things go that way,” Claude corrected her. “One can never know the outcome.” 

“You would be surprised.” Adrielle pushed him back, finally breaking away from his arms. “Evelyn is a witch, remember? They know a few things about predicting the outcomes.” 

With those words, Adrielle rushed into the corridor, gasping for air. Her face was red, and her heart was beating really fast. Why the Hell is Claude acting so strange? This was the second time he was tempted by her in some way and she was a bit freaked out by his behavior. She wasn't sure whether it was Evelyn's blood, currently coursing in her own veins, that made him so attracted to her (in lack of a better word). Evelyn was an _anima clausa_ , a special type of soul that was a strong magnet for demons. So, was it Evelyn's fragrance in her that fascinated Claude so much, or Adrielle's own essence? No. It doesn't really matter. What matters the most now is to find Sebastian, for only then, Evelyn will end this madness they've all gotten into.

She had to inhale deeply to calm herself down. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want any part of it.


	5. First Butler, Intrigued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn needs an advice. Prophetic one.
> 
> http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-First-Butler-Intrigued-pt-4-529174773?ga_submit_new=10%253A1433967062&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1

_Warning: The following chapter mentions delicate themes, and contains twisted humor. We are visiting funeral parlor, after all. ^^_

**PART 4 - FIRST BUTLER, INTRIGUED**

It was almost impossible to get from Waldram Manor to Trancy Manor in fifteen minutes, even if you used the fastest carriage. Why? Mostly because of the geographical distance between two large, countryside estates, of course. However, what was almost impossible for other people, wasn’t even considered to be the challenge for a certain, vile Countess.

Probably because she didn’t use standard means of transport this time. Contrary to popular belief among those who knew her true nature, she didn’t use a flying broom either.

Adrielle was looking in the mirror. Evelyn’s reflection was there again, and the witch was walking towards the glass-surface on her side. Suddenly, when she reached the frame, the glass around her hand started melting, forming some weird, transparent liquid substance that completely covered Evelyn’s whole body. It looked like she was moving through the giant water-wave without getting wet, or drowned inside of it. Adrielle left out a small gasp. Out of all Evelyn’s tricks, this was the most recent, hence the most surprising for a thief mistress to witness. 

Evelyn stepped out of Trancy Manor’s mirror, and the liquid substance around her slowly returned into the frame, becoming the solid glass again. Countess checked her reflection, and fixed her dress. She was wearing her emerald gown, and long, pale-yellow travelling cloak. Her hair was lifted half-up in a messy bun, and half-down, wavy and beautiful, placed around her torso.

“I could _kill_ you right now,” Adrielle greeted her with those words, crossing her arms under her breasts. Evelyn leaned towards her, and kissed her on the cheek. “A DEMI CONTRACT?”

“That anger shall pass, and you will love me again. Claude?” Evelyn called. He appeared instantly. 

“At your service, mistress Waldram,” he bowed down a little.

“Is the carriage ready?” 

Claude nodded, and showed the way. Two women silently followed him. He opened the door for them and helped them both climb the carriage.

“As you know, our primary destination will be the town. I need to visit some people before we find our young Phantomhive Earl and his loyal, demon butler,” Evelyn smirked. Adrielle sighed. 

“Where exactly are we going, and _why is everything so God-damned complicated with you?_ ”

“It’s the world that’s complicated, Adrielle darling. Not me.” Evelyn knocked twice against the carriage glass, a signal for a coachman to start to drive. When the carriage started moving, the witch looked at the demon, and smirked widely once again. 

“Claude Faustus… we finally, officially meet face to face.” 

He was sitting in front of her so she used the opportunity to thoroughly check him out. Then, she rose from her seat, and sat next to Claude. Adrielle would be shocked if she didn’t know exactly what kind of a woman Evelyn was. This was just another game of hers. Therefore, Adrielle just rolled her eyes and let Evelyn do whatever she had in mind. 

“A handsome face, isn’t it, Adrielle?” Countess teased, and leaned towards Claude. 

“Why are you asking me? Of course he is handsome, everyone with eyes can tell you that much,” Adrielle responded, and crossed her legs. The layers of fabrics moved against her skin as she did so, and she had to admit that wearing aristocratic gowns once in a while wasn’t such a bad idea. This one actually felt nice. The corset was a bit tight, though, but will most certainly keep the golden belt. Adrielle loved shiny things.

“Countess Waldram?” Claude seemed just a bit surprised. Evelyn seductively stroked his face, her small, thin fingers felt cold against his skin as she did so. Then, she suddenly grabbed his chin, digging her hand in, and dragged his face towards hers. She stopped at the span of their lips, facing him directly with her changed eyes. While Claude’s eyes were golden, Evelyn’s were sickish shade of yellow, like there was some light-green tone in it… the best way to describe those eyes would probably be to say they looked like they belonged to a black cat. 

“For _an ugly tarantula_ of your true-self, you are quite handsome when you are in human form.” 

Claude’s eyebrow slightly twitched. Other than that, his face and his voice remained calm when he responded: “I am not a tarantula.” 

“Honestly, I don’t care what you are,” she sat right into his lap, making herself comfortable. 

Claude was now visibly shocked, and reflexively jumped a little… and Adrielle had to laugh this time, because the roles got switched. Someone actually invaded _his_ personal space for a change. Adrielle loved a good payback, even if it was in the unusual way.

Evelyn closed one arm around Claude's neck, and placed the other on his chest. He followed the movement, and gave her a cold stare.

“You don’t want to get this close to me, _my lady_ ,” Claude’s tone was phlegmatic but his words were carefully chosen. They were like a needle. In the most cases, he would go with 'your Highness', but with Waldram, he chose to provoke. She hasn't even blinked. 

“You don’t know what I want, or don’t want. You don’t know me.” 

“I know what my instincts, and my senses tell me. You smell like _him_. You belong to _him_.” Claude closed his arms around her waist, and rose her in his lap. 

“And when has something like that stopped someone _like you_? Really? You _love_ plucking forbidden fruit, and competing with others to demonstrate your power. Also, you seem the enjoy the challenge more than anything.” Evelyn went through his hair, and felt it under her fingers. It was soft, and silky. She smiled. “I want you to know something, though. All that you think that you know is wrong. All those traces of him that you are picking, that is. I am a free witch. I don’t belong to anyone but myself. Now and forever.” 

“An _anima clausa_. Of course you do. But you are _branded_ by him, branded until someone tries to claim you and erase his trail. Then, you might not be so… _independent_ as you may think. Even if you are _the one that can't be devoured_. Maybe others can't devour you, _closed soul_ , but the right kind of demon just might be able to do so.” Claude’s threat was obvious in his statement. Evelyn grimaced, even if she responded silently and without raising her voice. 

“And you think you might be the right kind? You truly are all the same. Sebastian believed he will get through to me too, and tried to devour me even if he knew what I am. He failed, and so would you, but that doesn't stop you from reconsidering to devour me anyway. How preposterous of you demons. In the end, you are just thinking about your filthy, cursed ways to satisfy your gluttony for souls and nothing more. You damned, pitiful creatures. So dangerous, yet so alluring. Wearing beautiful masks to hide the ugliness of the darkness below. Wearing faces of humans whose very souls you pry on, just to hide those pitiful natures of yours… natures _worse than those of beasts_.” 

“Aren’t witches exactly the same then, _my lady_?” he whispered softly, unprovoked by her words. He has heard similar ones a million times before. “Isn’t it the very reason why all demons are attracted to all witches, and vice-versa, and why the term _**‘devil’s consorts’** _ applies so well to your kind?” 

Adrielle, who was bored until that moment, rose a bit in her own seat. This caught her attention.

“Indeed.” the Crimson Countess whispered back. She wasn’t smiling anymore, her expression got very serious instead. “Devil’s consorts we are. Devils… _demons_ … are choosing us, and we choose them in return. We share flesh, and blood, and horror. There’s no need to be polite, Claude, you are free to say what you truly intended to say. You can deliberately express your further discontent with my kind. I know one thing that might come as a surprise, though, even to you. _Witches are even worse than demons_. I speak from experience. But that doesn’t mean that I appreciate your kind more because of it.” 

She smoothed his hair, reached into the inner pocket of her travelling cloak and pulled a pair of glasses with square shape lenses. She put them onto Claude’s face.

“There. That’s better now, isn’t it?” She slid down to the leather seat, finally letting Claude out of her grasp, and liberating herself from his. She tapped his shoulder. 

Adrielle yawned. This will be one Hell of a trip. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

The carriage stopped in an alley which contained the most infamous building in London, decorated by a large wooden sign, chained against the front wall. It consisted a set of capital letters that spelled both a (nick)name and occupation of the person who resided and managed the whole installment. 

Claude helped Adrielle and Evelyn to get down from carriage, and the three of them stepped in the dark, misty chamber. Claude managed to look apathetic, while Adrielle didn’t hide her amusement. It was always fun to visit funeral parlor, and to see the Undertaker.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Countess of Blood. I was wondering when you will visit your oldest friend,” a giggly voice came out of darkness, and a modest top-hat with a bush of long, grey hair showed up behind one of the half-opened coffins. 

“Oldest? You look surprisingly young for your age,” Evelyn flattered him, though Adrielle knew that his actual age would make anyone’s head spin, so the witch was right about her statement. “Come on, I am wearing this beautiful dark-shade of green, and you are still calling me ‘Countess of Blood’? Naughty, naughty Undertaker.”

His chuckle was short and cheerful. “Ah, you are right, per usual. Maybe the fitting attribute for today would be ‘Venomous’ Countess instead,” he corrected himself. Evelyn’s grin grew exponentially to his own. He teased her further. “Are you here to offer me a good laugh, or that cowardly woman who sits on the throne while others do her duties, has sent you to replace her Watch-Dog yet again, now when the boy is officially gone? After all, you are the Queen’s Confidant, and she places a great amount of trust in you, though she would be quite surprised to learn it’s a common mistake.” 

Evelyn’s grin was yet to fade. “The nature of my visit has nothing to do with Victoria. Not this time.”

“Are you sure?” he mocked further. “As far as I can see, you brought me company this time, which means that the situation is… GRAVE. Hehehe.” 

He glanced at Claude and Adrielle. “My, what a joyous pair! A demon, and a queen of thieves. Are they here to give me the first-rate laugh too? Are you even sure they can deliver it?” the Undertaker grinned at Adrielle, who was already down to examine the contents of his coffins, and was a bit disappointed to find them empty. 

“You are already laughing, is there even a point?” the red-head responded and Undertaker was delighted by her words. Claude, on the other hand, said nothing. The golden eyes behind his new glasses glowed with an eerie light, though. He fixed the frame of his lenses on his nose with one quick move. It was a known fact that demons and reapers didn’t like each-other too much… even if we disregard the fact that Undertaker was officially retired, or proclaimed deserter, but generally considered neutral between all the races. And if we forget all the _bizarre_ things that he did, pun intended.

“They are here because I need guidance and assistance regarding this mission,” Evelyn explained. “I am going to bring Victoria’s Watch-Dog back.” 

“So, it has something to do with her after all!” the retired Death God chuckled.

“Only in names and titles. I am doing this on my own, and for me,” Evelyn insisted. 

“Hah! How amusing you are, darling. Truly, _you are_ ,” Undertaker was already thrilled. “The whole London claims that the boy is dead, yet you are here with plan to bring him back. I have no doubt that you will, I know you all too well. That’s what makes it so interesting. What makes it so… enticing! And above all… so funny!” the funeral director burst with pure joy, and smiled widely to the Countess. 

Then, he approached her without hesitation that was commonly seen within other men when in her presence. Undertaker put his fingers onto her shoulders, and hugged her from behind. Adrielle and Claude looked at each other. 

“You have already made that coffin for me… haven’t you?” she asked and let him hold her for a moment. There was a hint of melancholy in her voice this time. 

“I did, darling. It’s the highest-quality work, carved from rosewood. A sort of wood that is very hard and has a dark, reddish-brown color. I think it suits you perfectly. It’s quite fragrant and close grained, and naturally, hard to work with, just like with you. Also, it takes high polish. Just like you. I’ve also prepared the cotton, and wool, and added golden fittings. It’s absolutely worthy of you.” 

“I am almost flattered. Can I choose the flowers, or you will just stuff irises all around me?” 

“I will stuff anything of your preference around you, and inside of you,” he mocked. Evelyn turned to face him. She removed the top-hat from his head, and put it on her own head. 

“Careful. I will take that as an invitation,” she declared. “You know I am a hard person to kill, and even a harder woman to please.” 

Adrielle’s face was mirror of her genuine feelings of disgust. “Eww, Evelyn!”

“Oh, that reminds me. You may not have intercourse with me when I am dead. Just so we’re clear,” Evelyn said this just to make him laugh again, which he did, but he returned the favor. 

“Hihihi… the dead have no complaints, so hopefully, neither shall you.” 

“Ewwww! Undertaker, that’s absolutely disgusting even for your standards! So disturbing!” Adrielle loudly expressed her honest opinion. 

“Relax, darling. She is a witch, and with her abilities, I doubt that she’d even stay dead for long, so technically it wouldn't even be considered to be necrophilia.” 

“Don’t joke about it! Witches can be killed, even I know that much. They are powerful, but aren’t immortal,” Adrielle argued. Funeral director just smiled, yet again. 

“That’s true. But they can cheat death. This one makes a spectacle out of it. A first rate laugh, if you will, my dear thief-mistress. I am not so worried about Evelyn as I am worried about you. You might end up as my guest long before she does.” 

“Don’t worry about me, mind your own twisted business,” Adrielle said, but winked at him. Adrielle loved Undertaker even when she didn’t always like his sense of humor, or his choices. 

“I think you had enough of your laugh to assist me in next ten missions of my choosing. You know why we came… so bring her to me. I shall see her now,” Evelyn interrupted. Adrielle was yet to discover who the mysterious “she” was that they were talking about. 

“Weren’t you perfectly capable to bring creatures from death on your own?” Undertaker’s tone was challenging, and a bit envious. He was trying to bring people back from the dead for ages, yet was never successful. He didn’t like that someone like Evelyn was given that kind of power, and considered it to be cheating. Lovely, but cheating. That’s why he never asked her to help him with his... dolls. 

“The boy is not dead. He is a demon,” the Countess explained. That information alone made the Undertaker burst with laughter. The loudest one this time.

“My, my! What unfortunate, but a splendid turn of events! Vincent’s son, a demon? AND YOU will be the one to return him? Evelyn, darling… that’s literally one of the funniest things I’ve heard recently! This time, I might actually need that custom-made coffin I prepared for you!” 

“I am glad you find that amusing,” Evelyn added, “but I am planning to fix that mistake, and I most certainly don’t plan to die.”

“I am not sure it’s up to you. And I am not sure that I am entirely glad to hear that you are willing to go this far. But who am I to object?” he asked.  

“Exactly.” Evelyn clicked her tongue, and removed his bangs from his eyes. Adrielle blushed a little after seeing his face. Even the frigid Claude finally showed a peek of interest in this strange persona. 

The Undertaker was one handsome son of the indecent lady when his face was exposed. He had beautiful facial structure, features, and beautiful eyes. His eyes were probably the most alluring thing on him. Also, his scars only made him look more appealing instead of ruining his looks.  

Evelyn caressed the long threads of his hair, putting them behind his back. 

“For the love of me, bring her here. I don’t have much time… and I need to know.” 

Adrielle looked at Evelyn. She finally realized who they were talking about. “HE… has her?” the red-head muttered under her breath, and the dark-haired woman just nodded. 

“All right, darling… I will fetch her for you, but just because you asked nicely. Have some biscuits while you wait, I won’t take long. They are in the oven so help yourselves. I will be back in ten minutes.”

The Undertaker opened a back-door, and went down the stairs that led to the basement. 

“Evelyn…” Adrielle whispered, “… I thought that you knew where she was or had her. That you put a hex on her and that you control her. To think that the Undertaker has her…”

“If she was left with me, or in my care, I wouldn’t guarantee that she would be alive right now.”

“But he… he might… he might have taken an internal organ from her, or experimented on her… or…” 

Evelyn’s eyes went from dark brown to yellow in an instant. She didn’t do it voluntarily, it was raw emotion that made her change, and it was pure rage. 

“What happens to the Seer isn’t our problem, Adrielle. Don’t stress over that. I gave her to the Undertaker because I couldn’t have her on my Manor while she was in that state. He could store her here for me. The funeral parlor is the best place for her right now. And regarding whether she is missing anything… I couldn’t care less. I just need her gift to see the future or hear a prophecy. Whatever may help with my cause, and pinpoint directions of my future decisions. The Seer will tell me for sure, since my Tarot deck can’t. And if she doesn’t… well, let’s just say that things can turn _much uglier_ for her than they already are. She knows it too.” 

“I am telling this because I worry about you. After all, she is…” 

“She is nothing. _She is less than nothing._ And I will reduce her to dust if she doesn’t cooperate.”

Evelyn’s tone was plain harsh, and cruel. While Adrielle completely understood Evelyn’s reasons, a part of her felt small, really small amount of pity for the Seer. 

That woman was a fortuneteller from the East End. Both Adrielle and Evelyn knew her and both have had their destiny foretold by her, often in riddles and often in hints, but everything that woman has ever said, came true. She was the most gifted and the most accurate in her 'profession', and she was telling fortune to the poorest, like to the wealthiest, all the same. 

But this Seer dared to cross Evelyn Waldram, and everyone under the blue sky knew that it was the worst decision one could have ever brought, and the worst choice that this woman has made. Evelyn retaliated like only EVELYN knew, and the Seer was hexed, in a state where she was neither alive, or dead. She was in deep slumber, awoken only when Evelyn required, and put back to sleep after Evelyn was done with her. She was also fully conscious while sleeping, doomed to know it, but not to be able to break free from her state.

“After she tells you and you know for sure what happens when you go after Sebastian… will you still do it?” Claude seemed interested to hear her answer as much as Adrielle was. 

“If I don’t do it, Adrielle… nobody will. I will try even if it costs me my life. As you have heard… Undertaker has already prepared the coffin. I am sure he will make a spectacular funeral for me in case that I die,” Evelyn joked, and took Adrielle’s hands in her own. “Don’t worry. I am a witch. I can trick death, and I’ve done it before. I just need the Seer to tell me details, and additional risks and possibilities that I might have to take, or not take along the way. I just want to know exactly what I am getting into, but it won’t change my ultimate decision.” 

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Adrielle joked too. “Well, may the God or the Devil or Whoever is up there or down there… help us with this quest.”

“I doubt God has anything to do with us.” Evelyn sighed, and Adrielle made a few steps around the room. The gloomy atmosphere that followed was very fit for a funeral parlor… _but not for Undertaker’s funeral parlor_. This one was supposed to be filled with indeecent, genuine laughter, no matter how crazy that sounded or appeared to decent world out there. Well. 

Adrielle recalled something the retired God of Death brought up just a few moments ago. 

“Evelyn… regarding those biscuits of his… are they sweet?”


	6. The Wrath Of The Crimson Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because she deserved everything she got. 
> 
> http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-Wrath-of-the-Crimson-Witch-pt-5-538642413?ga_submit_new=10%253A1433967177&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1&ga_recent=1

BLACK BUTLERS - Wrath of the Crimson Witch (pt. 5)  
by galateabellator, June 9th, 2015  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

**PART 5 - The Wrath Of The Crimson Witch**

Undertaker appeared soon, pulling quite simple, modest wooden casket behind him. A lot of poor people were carried to graveyards in caskets like this, only to be thrown out into specific pits where the rest of the poorest were usually buried. Although they were transported to those pits in coffins like these, the bodies themselves were wrapped only in sheets or some other kind of fabric… and then thrown in the deep, spacious hole in the ground, one body placed over other, and over the next one… until pits were filled to the top. Then, the ground chunks would be placed over all of them - and that was it. The burial of the poorest.  
                                                 
Adrielle shivered at the thought, though it was very Evelyn-like to put the Seer into that kind of coffin. She knew how to make a statement that way. 

The former death-god put the casket in front of Evelyn and respectfully backed down, taking a sit in his chair, and leaning his head onto his palm. He was waiting, with a slight smirk on his face, but his eyes were predatory sharpened. He wanted to enjoy every minute of this. 

“Do you want us to wait outside?” Adrielle asked Evelyn, referring to Claude in the process. His golden eyes turned towards the red-headed girl. 

“No, dear,” the witch spoke, “it’s fine.” She removed the top, and opened the modest coffin with menacing, cold stare glued at its content. Claude sensed something in the air… something bitter, salty, and sore. Evelyn’s lips were formed in a thin, strict red line. Ever since she showed that serious side of hers, he wondered just how many people could tell her real nature from her carefully-forged mask. This woman knew horror, and knew pain. She suffered a lot, and that shaped her into who she is now. Her true self was hidden under all those smiles she was saving for the rest of the world around her. Beyond all the glory, all the power, all the wealth and all the strength… Evelyn Waldram was damaged, and very emotionally unstable. 

What an alluring soul. Attractive soul. Anima Clausa, the Undevourable One. It was both pleasure and pain to have a Mistress who was owner of such a soul. He couldn’t help but wonder… how the contract between her and Sebastian looked like. What was he like in previous contract? What was she like? Questions rose onto Claude’s mind, and he had to admit that he was intrigued. 

Evelyn pulled a small dagger out of her travelling cloak, and stopped for a second. Fingers of her free hand slightly touched the high collar around her neck, one of the many she wore. For every gown, this witch had a matching collar, and it was a necessity as much as it was a fashion statement. She reached for it like she wasn’t at ease and needed to breathe.

Then, she pulled a single white lock in her ever dark, raven-hair. She cut the piece out of it, along with a lock of her black hair… and tied them both in a knot. Then, she slit her palm, opening a deep, ugly wound… and squeezed her fingers around the cut she made. She lifted her hand, and dug her fingers deeper into wound. Her blood started flowing, and dripping all over the hexed-woman’s forehead… ruining her pale, porcelain skin with dark, crimson drops. 

**_“Vigilaveris, propheta. Habeo negotium pro tu…”_** Evelyn demanded.  
_(Wake up, Seer. I have a job for you.)_

The woman wasn’t old. She might have been in her early forties, but her long, wavy hair was as white as snow. She had high cheekbones and beautiful, symmetric facial features. Her lips were full, and a pale shade of pink in color. Her arms were crossed on her chest, and her face, although beautiful, held an expression that portrayed deep sadness. She was dressed in a simple, brown dress. 

**_“Vigilaveris…”_** the witch called.  
_(Wake up…)_

As soon as Evelyn’s blood touched her, Seer opened her eyes. The edges were red, as if she was recently crying, and salty tears tore in the skin around her eyeballs.

Evelyn held a knot of black/white hair above the woman’s head, and then unfolded it. In that moment, the previously-immobile Seer moved and opened her arms, and rose from the casket… like a puppet, suddenly pulled by invisible strings. 

“Eve… Evelyn…” her voice was somewhat soar, because she hadn’t used it in a while. It felt like it would crack. Her eyes were focused on Countess’ frigid expression and merciless glare. “Evelyn… please…”

She was terrified. It was no wonder. Adrielle watched closely as Evelyn leaned down, and the Seer backend away from her. In her place, the brave thief mistress would probably do the same.  
“The time for pleading has long passed. Years ago, Seer.”

“Pl… please…” the woman whispered, “haven’t I suffered enough? Have you not tormented me enough already? Do you not have even a shred of mercy left in you, Evelyn? For me, of all people? Please…”  
“It’s Countess Waldram, not Evelyn. You are addressing a proper Englishwoman and a lady, you ill-mannered peasant. Don’t you dare to call me by my name again.” 

Seer’s eyes widened. She turned her head towards another familiar face. 

“Adrielle… please… Adrielle…” the Seer tried to reach for the thief-mistress instead, but Adrielle didn’t want to look at her. She remained silent, her arms crossed, and she was looking at the floor rather than facing this woman. 

“Adrielle, I beg you, make her listen… all I wanted was to do good… I only wanted… the best…” Seer started mumbling, in panic. 

Suddenly, Evelyn tied the hair-knot again in one forceful, vigilant move, and the older woman started cramping. Every bone in her body felt like it was breaking, and it hurt like Hell… but her lips were shut and remained shut, like she was forced to keep them that way. And, indeed she was. She couldn’t scream even if the pain tore her apart, or if her very soul was leaving her body. No. Evelyn wouldn’t allow her to scream. She had to remain silent. 

“You won’t speak unless you are asked to. You won’t move unless I tell you so. You will not BREATHE unless I allow you to. Is that clear?”

The Seer started whimpering, unable to produce any other kind of sound… and it was utterly pitiful to hear. Especially to Adrielle. The Undertaker was smiling the whole time, and Claude’s expression haven’t changed. It remained cold, and calculating, as always. Adrielle was feeling sorry, for both Evelyn, and the fortuneteller. But nobody in that room moved to help the white-haired woman. They all knew it was useless and probably very unwise. 

“Listen now, Prophet-Witch. I need your Gift, and I need the truth. I will know if you try to fool me or lie to me, because I know you well. If you try to mislead me, so help me God, I will think of worse ways to make you suffer. You know it’s not a threat. It’s a fair warning - as always. Don’t tempt my wrath.”

Tears started sliding down the pale cheeks. Only when the Crimson Countess felt that Seer was on the verge of breaking, she stopped inflicting pain onto her by untying the hair-knot once again. The relief that came felt like a blessing. 

Seer buried her head in her palms. 

“Haven’t I suffered enough?” she was sobbing, shaking, she was muttering these words under her breath. Evelyn allowed her a moment. 

“Stop whining. Look at me. LOOK AT ME.” Witches faced each other. Seer’s eyes were filled with tears. They were dark brown, almost as dark as Evelyn’s, but turned bright red. Evelyn’s turned yellow in response and her pupils got sharper.

“You deserve everything you get, and no, you haven’t suffered enough.” She dug her fingers in the Seer’s jaw, and forced the older witch to look at her. 

“Now, focus. Respond my questions. Tell me what will happen once I enter the Realm of Black-ones, and when I find Ciel Phantomhive.” 

“No… no… once I tell you, you will hex me into slumber again…”

“I see that your premonitions are as accurate as ever! It makes my heart burst with joy to know that your Gift works well after all these years,” Evelyn’s voice was filled with sarcasm. “After all… you are the only person who can foretell the future better than I do, and that’s the only thing that keeps you alive, Seer. Luckily for you, I need your talent. Now, _speak_.” 

The older witch was shivering. She was also trying hard to hold her sobs. Adrielle touched her own forehead, rubbing the temple. She wasn’t comfortable with being there.

Seer’s eyes turned up, her pupils were now hidden behind her eyelids, leaving only white outer layers of her eyes exposed. She was entering some kind of trance. When she spoke, her voice was eerie. She spoke to Evelyn. 

_“Black Ones are expecting you. Saw you coming, know it’s true,”_ she was whispering, but her voice now echoed throughout the room. _“To enter that castle, there’ll be a price… you’ll have to offer a sacrifice.”_

Evelyn was staring at her, her face was expressionless, and cold. 

_“Black One that stands by your side… will confront the Black that hides. All of that… on your behalf. But there’s wound ‘bove that Spider’s heart. Gives him trouble, hurts him bad. It still makes the Spider - mad. Weaker he is now then Crow, he shall suffer fatal blow. But Contract will keep him alive, much like Ciel Phantomhive. Only when boy’s Contract’s done, you shall have Sebastian. Boy might give you what is yours, but it’ll only… make things worse.”_

Evelyn smirked. Seer’s pupils reappeared again, and were as red as blood. 

“The Butler is loyal to his last master. The Boy is clever. The bond of the contract is strong.”

“Will I be able to help him?” Evelyn asked. 

“The Boy, or the Dreadful One?” the woman whispered. Evelyn just gave her the look, but not the answer. The Seer continued talking.

“You won’t be able to break their contract simply as Evelyn Waldram. You can’t save them both either, not without consequences. But since I am well aware that nothing I say will make you change your mind… even if I told you to leave things be, for that’s better for everyone… you won’t do it.”

“No, Seer. I won’t. There are too many things and too much history between me and those two to leave things as they are - and you know it.”

“If you desire so much to break the Black Contract… the legitimate Faustian Contract… you have to claim the Servant. To overthrow the Master he acknowledged for eternity. You have to _tear_ that bond.” 

Countess’s expression remained unchanged. “I know. But tell me… am I strong enough to do it, or should I look for some other, more powerful witch?” 

For a first time since she was awakened, the Seer smiled. Her smile was soft, and then it became a chuckle. “Ah, my dear, dear Countess… you must be aware by now. There’s no witch in London… no, _in whole England_ … that can surpass you in power. It’s up to you, but you have to figure the way.” 

The Seer expressed some kind of wicked pride while she was talking about Evelyn’s powers. 

“Be aware of this, though. The one you _named_ … the one you _shared your body with_ … will draw a claw through your heart. Like in that… lucid dream of yours.”

“I know. I am prepared for it.”

“Are you, now? I warned you, girl. You are a witch and can do magic, but you aren’t immortal. It’s better to leave them both in that doomed place and forget about them. It was their destiny. If you meddle with that, mark my words. _There will be consequences_.” 

“I initiated a demi-contract, for Hell’s sake. Mr. Faustus’ own power will protect me, as my own protect him. I will take my chances.” Evelyn declared. “Besides… who are you to talk? _You meddled with my own destiny_ , and look how well it turned out,” Evelyn’s voice resembled snake’s hissing now. The Seer gave one defiant look to her. 

“Everything I told you became true. Everything! I promised you the glory, the power, the wealth. I told you - you will became great, and you’ll have everything you ever wanted! And look at you now! As powerful as Victoria herself! Everyone bows down to you, you live in luxury! You are beautiful, you are young, you are everything…”

“ _I_ am everything that _you_ wanted me to be, _**mother**_.” Evelyn’s voice sounded like it was filled with venom when she spoke the last word. She almost choked on it. “I don’t have everything that _I_ wanted, but you wouldn’t know that, would you? You never knew, you stupid, blind woman. I always had to explain myself when it came down to you.”

Adrielle observed Claude. He was a bit surprised, but she had a feeling that the whole this thing… was amusing to him in a way. The evidence presented itself as his lips curved into a small smirk. 

“Oh, Evelyn…” the Seer whispered. 

“Don’t you dare. It offends me profoundly when you pretend that you did it for me, Natasha Grey.”

Evelyn grabbed her throat, and squeezed it. “I wanted to be _happy_. I wanted to lead a simple life by your side, as Evelyn Grey. Not as wicked, nasty Evelyn Waldram. I wished to marry the man of my liking, not the one of your choosing. I never wanted to be a damn _Waldram_ , for the word itself presents everything I absolutely loathe.” 

She released her, and Natasha gasped loudly, trying to calm herself down. 

“I wanted a mother who’d love me more than money, more than her sick ambition! More than Robert’s cursed fortune! More than his damn titles and status!”

“Evelyn... don’t, I beseech thee…” 

“I begged you too, remember? Don’t give me up. Don’t sell me out to that man. Don’t take away everything from me. Don’t do this to me. Don’t make him hurt me. Mother, mother, mother.” 

She put her hand over Natasha’s forehead, to drip more blood onto her. 

“Your time has expired. Time to go back into slumber.”

“No. NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!”

“Watch me.” 

“Evelyn! Evelyn… don’t… I still… I still have things to tell you…”

“Like what?” 

“The Black Contract isn’t your only problem! They are coming for you! They will hunt you, they will make you suffer. Their leader…” 

“You would say anything just to stay out of your damn box, wouldn’t you?” Evelyn smirked again. 

“I swear… I swear! The Queen’s Watchdog is the least of your problems. Daughter… Evelyn… I beg you… please…”

“No.” Evelyn, who still held a piece of her hair in her palm, squeezed it tightly in her fist. The black fume rose from the bundle, and the Seer lied down to her resting place, coughing, and choking. 

**_“Nunc exsecratio sum vobis, revertus ad inferi dormitabit…”_**  
_(Now, I curse you, go back to Hell-slumber)._

“The Coven…”, older witch gasped, “…the Coven…”

And those were Natasha’s last words, before she went into deep, nightmare-filled sleep again. _The Coven_. With that, she closed her eyes and her body went into a paralyzed state again. Evelyn took a napkin from her pocket, and started wiping the blood off of her mother's face. She also fixed her hair for her, and moved her arms lower, crossing them on her chest. 

“Until the next time, Seer.”

She sighed, and took a moment to handle her mixed feelings. Then, she turned towards the Undertaker. 

“Move her out of my sight. Move her away.” 

She touched the collar on her neck once again, unaware of this small movement. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - 

In realm of demons, a pair of crimson eyes switched into purple, and were now glowing in anticipation. A white rose in his hand was starting to turn red. Tracks of crimson ribbons covered the soft surface of pure white petals, and those crimson lines started flowing. Dripping. 

The rose was bleeding. He crushed it in his palm and blew the petals away with his breath. 

His lips parted gently, and for the first time since he became Servant for Eternity… Sebastian Michaelis smiled. He smiled… and whispered a name.


	7. Matter Of Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The merry group is finally approaching our favorite Faustian couple :)
> 
> Also posted on DA: http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-Matter-of-Perspective-pt-6-564519593?ga_submit_new=10%253A1448479575

BLACK BUTLERS - Matter of Perspective (pt. 6)  
by galateabellator, Oct 5, 2015, 6:44:57 PM  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

**PART 6 - MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE**

**_Warning: Brief mentions of delicate themes, but nothing worth of mature filter. Consider yourselves warned._ **

_She has heard it in the deepest, darkest corner of her mind. A whisper, distant and soft. She would recognize that voice anywhere, anytime. There was no person in the whole world that whispered her name that way. It was eerie, but seductive. Smooth and soothing._

_In that moment, she knew… that the bond was never truly severed, and that he was never too far away. Despite his latest contract. Evelyn Waldram smiled softly as she whispered his name back in return._

\- - - - - - - - - - -  

“Well, that must have brought back some pretty painful memories,” the Undertaker giggled as he returned from the storage room and after putting Natasha Grey’s body back to safety.

“It didn’t, actually. My painful memories are always with me,” Evelyn sighed, and leaned onto the tall, white-haired man. She hugged him, affectionately and intimately, and he caressed her long, black hair. He got surprisingly serious as he spoke near her ear. 

“Good. You will need that once you go after them. You will need all the strength you can get, whether it’s through your pain, or your power. I advise you to recall Robert, and everything about Robert when you get near the castle. It should do it.” 

Adrielle gasped. Whenever someone brought Robert’s name up, she felt uneasy. She could only imagine how that must have felt when you were Evelyn. After all, Adrielle knew the whole story, and it made her sick to her stomach whenever she thought of that ville, evil nobleman that once treated Evelyn as an object of his possession, obsession, his sick desires… and mania. Thank God that he was long dead. 

“You are that worried about me?” Evelyn laughed, and the Undertaker caressed her cheek. 

“I am never worried about you. You can handle yourself.” 

Their eyes met in mutual understanding… and he gave her his widest grin. 

“And in case that you can’t… I have prepared that special casket for you. Just in case!”

Well… there was that. 

\- - - - - - - - - - -  

Claude led the way through center of the town. His two mistresses followed - Adrielle was lost in thoughts, and Evelyn was looking around, as if she was looking for something. Or someone. 

“What was she talking about… when she mentioned the sacrifice? Anyone?” Adrielle asked, referring to Seer’s prophecy. Evelyn looked at Claude. He responded: 

“Realm of demons isn’t designed for mortals. As you must be aware, mistress Roseville… human souls are in a grave danger when exposed to creatures of darkness. Demons… devils… are constantly preying onto human souls. That’s why Mistress Waldram insisted on our… demi-contract. My powers, and my presence will shield you from other… creatures like myself during our journey. Very much like… blinding others by my aroma, sort to say. However, that’s not enough. To remain in realm of demons, and to enter a castle that is guided by a powerful magic, you must offer up a sacrifice for two souls who aren’t from our domain. Mistress Waldram is a witch, so… she has partially covered that already. In her case, it isn’t all that complicated. But in yours…”

“What?” she asked, already displeased. What else will it take to enter that damned place?

“Madame Waldram!” someone shouted, recognizing her in the crowd. Claude stopped talking, leaving Adrielle even more curious than before. A blonde man in long, white suit approached them, and politely bowed down before the ladies. 

“I thought it was you, Evelyn,” he took her arm and kissed her hand. “With each passing day, you grow even more beautiful than before. As much as it seems impossible, it’s so true and it’s just… stunning.”

“Aleister. Always the flatterer,” Evelyn bowed down a bit too, just for the sake of following the protocol. 

“I am just a humble admirer of beauty and art in general… and you are an epitome of both. Dearest Evelyn, you are a nymph. No, a goddess! An embodiment of Venus that has risen from her sea-shell and who so freely, and so effortlessly roams this unworthy city!” he continued. Evelyn smiled warmly. 

“And you are exaggerating, per usual. Why am I not surprised? Now, not that I am complaining, but I am black-haired. Venus is more of a red-head, like our lady Roseville here.” 

Viscount kissed Adrielle’s hand too and she felt a slight blush climbing up to her cheeks. Viscount of Druitt was a charming, handsome man, and despite his weird displays, shady activities and those kinds of parties she would rather avoid, he was attractive. In that manner, he was very much like the late Count Waldram, but while Robert was an arrogant, violent tyrant, Viscount Druitt had his way with words, and with people. It was more bearable to stand Aleister Chamber than Robert Waldram… probably a reason why Aleister is still alive, while Robert isn’t. 

“She is like Venus indeed! Then you will be Minerva, when you are so wise, my beautiful Evelyn!” he was so excited, like he discovered something beyond human comprehension and was currently trying to process it himself. 

“Don't get me wrong! You, Mademoiselle Roseville, look absolutely wonderful too!” 

“Thank you, sir…” she said, and pulled her hand out from his grip. 

“What am I to do with so much beauty that surrounds me? Should I write a sonnet? Compose a song? Make a portrait of you two? How can a simple man such as myself do anything to honor such divinity that involves presence of both of you?”

“Just stop already,” Evelyn suggested. 

“I can’t! You are my muses! I am like Dionis, but drunken by beauty instead of wine! Oh, no, no one can understand this agony! This PAIN!”

“There, there, Aleister. You will figure something out,” Lady Waldram sighed. 

Only then, Viscount noticed Claude. He took a good look, then made a melodramatic pose, leaned back of his palm on his forehead and shook his head thrice. 

“Oh, my! The world is a small place indeed when you are here too, Mr. Faustus!”

“It’s London that is small, Viscount.” The butler bowed down a bit. 

“As formidable as ever. As superb as ever! As stoic as ever! Mr. Faustus, you are a divine presence yourself! Have you thought about working for me? I could use a servant as capable as you…”

“He is already in my service,” Evelyn interrupted, with a sly smile. 

“To have my cousin’s butler… you really are quite something, aren’t you?” the aristocrat remarked. Evelyn shrugged her shoulders. 

“I have always attracted attention of gentleman who have… singular tastes.” 

“True. You always did. And Mr. Faustus is no exception, I see.”

Claude was glaring at Viscount. And while the butler remained calm and cold, Evelyn noticed that he wasn’t exactly pleased with sir Aleister Chamber. To be completely honest, neither was she. All close friends of her late husband weren’t really her cup of tea, and she didn’t really like meeting with them… one way or another. Yet, it was what it was. Some of those people could be useful, and Viscount of Druitt had his connections and talents. It was wise to have him around. His obsession with black magic and the occult stuff was intriguing too, especially from her perspective. 

“If you don’t mind, Viscount… we should be going.” Evelyn politely noted, and he approached her once more. He hugged her around her waist, and drew her closer to himself. 

“So soon? And there I was, prepared to invite you and your lovely friend over for a tea…” 

“Maybe some other time,” she smiled, and removed his hand from her corset. 

“You became so very busy since Robert died, that you barely have time for old friends. Such a shame,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that you are avoiding me.”

“Nonsense, dear. I am busy, it’s true… but to think that I am avoiding you would be just… too much. Even rude, I’d say. And I really have no reason to avoid you.”

“If that’s true, I am expecting you to come over for a dinner tomorrow. You haven’t visited in ages!”

“I was in mourning for a long time,” she said, but everything about her attitude screamed that she wasn’t mourning in the slightest. “That aside, you have to think about my reputation, Aleister. I am a widow now, and people tend to easily jump to conclusions. If they saw me in company of some young… eligible bachelor such as yourself, they would start talking, and neither of us would want that.”

“Since when are you concerned about people and their gossips? And since when were our reputations clean?” he asked, and smiled provocatively.

“Well… touché. Since never… but it wasn’t very pleasant to be around other nobles back when I was accused of killing my dearest husband, as you know well.” 

“It still infuriates me when I hear those foul accusations! I, above all other people, know that you were incapable of doing that! You loved Robert, and even if we disregard that fact for some reason, you were with our Queen when he died. It was practically impossible to kill him from the palace!” 

She smiled. He smiled too. Adrielle wondered just how much Aleister knows. 

“So, how about dinner tomorrow? Bring your friend. And your over-capable butler too! It should be fun!” 

“Fine with me. There will be a lot to talk about tomorrow anyway, so count us all in.”

“OH! I am intrigued now! Can you tell me already?” 

“No. It would ruin the surprise. Have a nice day, Aleister.” 

She turned on her heel, and Claude and Adrielle followed shortly after, leaving the Viscount in confused, but amused state. He was cheerful as he proceeded down the street on his own business. 

\- - - - - - - - - - -  

“You were saying?” Adrielle demanded, as Claude was walking next to her and Evelyn looked around for something again. She stopped when a hooded person in dark cloak approached and handed her something. Evelyn nodded, put the object in her inner pocket and joined the two of them. The red-head thief hasn’t really paid attention in that moment, because she had more urgent things to worry about. 

“Saying?” Claude repeated, unable to immediately process her question.

“About the realm of demons? About sacrifice?” 

“Mistress Roseville…”

Evelyn sighed. She stopped walking and turned to Adrielle. 

“There will be an altar, and in that altar, there will be a circle, designed in the shape of Faustian contract’s seal. One of those anyway. I expect that ours will look like Sebastian’s since it was my last contract seal too, so… the passage should be designed that way.” 

“An altar you say? What for?” Adrielle had a bad, bad feeling about the answer, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it. 

“Mostly for blood.”

“Mostly? What does that even mean? And whose blood? Yours?” 

Evelyn and Claude looked at each other, and then faced Adrielle.

“No,” Evelyn said, “mine won’t do. We will need yours.” Evelyn’s face was dead-serious. 

“Well… okay… but… I am not magical or anything. I mean… if we scratch the fact that I am in demi-contract, I am just an ordinary person.” 

“Maybe, but out of us three, you are the only one who is pure,” Evelyn pointed out.

“Pure how? You mean, spiritually?” Adrielle offered. 

“No, dear… what I meant was… you are the only one who is a virgin.” 

“EVELYN! WHAT THE HELL!” 

“You were asking for it. So… there you go. We need a sacrifice. Like in all cliched stories, a darkness requires the pure body in some kind of an unholy deed. It requires a virgin to be sacrificed. In this case, it will have to be you. I lost that battle a long time ago,” Evelyn mocked herself in the process of explaining.  

“Sacrifice as in… killing me?” Adrielle was utterly shocked. “Or something worse?” 

“Killing would be… one way,” Evelyn admitted. “But a simple copulation will do too. I think.”

“Copu… YOU THINK???” the redhead now emitted a large amount of rage, aimed towards her friend. 

“Virgin-blood is one of the components that open dark portals and dimensions,” Claude added, like it was nothing. “The way they open is up to the power of the demon, or in our case, power of the demon and the witch involved. The ways are… well. Numerous. It depends.” 

“I AM NOT SACRIFICING MY VIRGINITY!” Adrielle protested, and covered her lips as soon as she spoke. A few heads turned in their direction, but one sharp gaze from Claude made them turn away. Evelyn continued to talk like she was talking about something casual, such as weather. 

“The altar requires a ritual. A sacrifice. It requires a virgin, a demon, and it’s desirable that a virgin is a witch too, but we will have to do with what we have,” she said. Adrielle was now on the verge of boiling from embarrassment, and didn’t want to face Claude. 

“I am out. You fools will have to find some other twisted way to do this! I AM OUT!” 

“Is your resolve that weak?” Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Come on. Don’t back down now. Claude is pretty handsome, so it shouldn’t be that hard…”

“TO HELL WITH THE BOTH OF YOU!” Adrielle shouted. The crimson witch smiled. 

“This is really a wrong place to have this conversation. Claude?” Evelyn called. He pulled Adrielle and in a swift motion, dragged her behind a building’s corner where people couldn’t see them, and where their carriage was parked. Evelyn was right next to them. 

“Keep her close, servant. She can’t run away now,” she sounded tired and was now acting like Adrielle behaved like a spoiled little child. “Is anyone watching?” she asked, and the black butler sharpened all of his senses. After a brief pause, he answered: 

“No, Mistress Waldram. It’s clear.” 

“All right… here we go.” Evelyn reached for her pocket, and pulled out a bottle of dark-blue liquid. Claude dragged Adrielle in the carriage, while Evelyn used a piece of a white chalk to surround the carriage and started chanting in Latin. When she finished making a wide, large circle, she climbed the carriage too. Claude closed the door behind her, and opened the window. 

“Come, wind, come storm, come, rain. I summon you…” she mumbled. Just like that, the clouds gathered, and drops of rain started falling. The storm was coming, and it threatened to be a raging one. 

Just what Evelyn needed. She threw the dark blue potion, and it crushed into the ground. The fume started to rise and fill the circle. 

“Let me go!” Adrielle protested as Claude was holding her too tightly, and too hard. She wasn’t able to move - or escape, for that matter.

“Please, Mistress Roseville. Remain calm.” 

“Release me! I ORDER YOU!” Adrielle shouted. He twitched, and was conflicted whose orders he should obey. Whose orders? He desired the Undevourable soul, there was no doubt about it. She promised the soul of an equal quality in fulfillment of demi-contract, and he knew that she will deliver it. But again, something about Adrielle Roseville made him intrigued, and her soul had that special appeal that attracted him in another way. A way that he wasn’t able to explain. A way that was… almost magnetic, and to a certain point, destructible. On top of that… she wasn’t willing to give up her soul. She wasn’t willingly in this contract. 

He took a long, deep look onto her. She was small in his arms. Surely, she was tough for a girl, and under some other circumstances, she might have even been able to beat him. To fight her way out. But not as long as she is just a human, and he… the creature of darkness. He could crush her, make all her bones break, like some fragile branch or porcelain set. Even if she was something… less fragile, even if she was made of steel, or iron, Claude was able to bend her, and break her… break her beyond repair.

Claude licked his lips, and his golden eyes changed into demon-version, and started glowing purple. 

Her hair was soft. Red, like flame. Her blue eyes looked at him with hatred that he has seen so many times before – it was an anger of the defeated, of the weaker. Human’s look.

“You can release her now, Claude,” Evelyn was leaned onto the carriage seat, and was watching what she has done. Claude backed down, and Adrielle grabbed the handle of carriage’s door. Evelyn smiled. 

“You may relax, Adrielle. There won’t be any copulation, I was joking. I’ve got this. I wouldn’t let him kill you, or rape you, you really should know better than that. But also, know one thing. With or without your blood - I will get in, and get them out.” 

“You… you WILE WITCH!” Adrielle shouted, in embarrassment and anger. “Why did you tease me, then? Huh? WHY?” 

“Because I wanted to see your reaction. Yours and his. And frankly, I must say - I am quite satisfied with the outcome.”

The dark fume and the coming storm… covered them completely. The carriage started moving, and the mist swallowed them whole. 

**REALM OF DARKNESS**

“Sebastian,” the boy called, and his servant appeared a few moments later. He bowed down.

“Yes, my Lord?” he asked in pretty monotonic voice.

“Have you felt it? She is coming, and she is not alone.” Ciel exclaimed. He seemed bored when he made this statement. Sebastian didn’t reply, there was nothing useful to add to this remark anyway.  
“Are you excited?” his master wanted to know, but there was no enthusiasm in his tone. “Does it make you feel thrilled?” 

Sebastian was silent still. Ciel crossed his legs on his chair and stared at his black butler. 

“Well?” 

“Thrilled, my Lord?” Sebastian repeated, a small smirk escaping the corner of his lips. Thrilled was somewhat of a wrong word. What he felt at that moment, was a whole mixture of different feelings. One could even say – a storm. There was curiosity, for one… there was some excitement too, sure… there was also a burning anticipation, with a small whiff of desire… and just a hint of fear. 

“She is probably the only person in this world… who can set you free. Isn’t she?” 

Sebastian was thinking about it. 

“Don’t lie. You mustn’t lie to your master, it’s the contract condition,” Ciel reminded him. 

“She might be. But again… who knows. I have never been in a similar situation before. I can’t recall.” 

“Stop playing dumb. It's considered lying too.” 

Ciel’s eye was fixed at Sebastian. “I have told you once before… that I had no interest in your previous masters, unless they were somehow connected to my family or held any meaning to my cause. Honestly, I didn’t care about who owned you before me, but she is certainly… a very interesting woman. She has come so far, and made it where no other human or demi-human could set a single foot. If that’s not worth of my attention, I don’t know what else is. So, Sebastian, before she comes… I want to know more about Evelyn Waldram. I want you to tell me all that you know about her.”

“Master… you know Mistress Waldram well enough on your own. Do you really need to hear this now?” Sebastian felt obliged to asked. 

“My knowledge about Evelyn Waldram is vague, clouded and narrow. I know her form a certain perspective, and in rough drafts. For example, I know that she used to know my parents. She used to visit us a lot with her husband, Count Waldram. She used to play with me when I was younger, and spent some time with me and Lizzy. She was good with children. She was guarding us and reading to us. She wasn’t able to use her powers back then, and I am not even sure that she knew that she was a witch. But that was a long time ago, and I barely remember.” 

“For someone who barely remembers, what you described is pretty much accurate, my Lord.”

“Isn’t it? Well, to complete my point of view regarding Evelyn, I will need details. More details from your experience and interactions with her, and more about your previous service. I am aware that you don’t speak about, or don’t remember your previous masters in realm of humans, but I am also aware that you remember them all while you are in here, and I am going to use that to my advantage. Tell me, Sebastian. Why is she so special? Because she was a witch? What makes her so unique? Apart from being able to end this torturous circle for you, that is.”

His servant sighed. 

“The thing with that soul… is never an easy matter to explain, young master. Our story is a very long, and a very complicated one. I am not sure it’s even… suitable for children of your age to hear it, for it’s full of terrors, and themes that are… well, reserved for adults. No offense.” 

“I don’t care. I have nothing but time here, Sebastian. So, stop fooling around and start talking. Why did she make a contract with you in the first place? What was her objective?”

Sebastian smiled softly as he posed an unusual question.

“Are you referring to the last time we had made a contract, or you want me to go back… even further?” 

Ciel was now visibly shocked. He lifted his head up and his expression was full of surprise. He hasn’t heard about Faustian contract that occurred more than once, except when Ciel had forgotten his previous contract and promised his soul to Sebastian over again. Maybe Evelyn had similar experience with him too?

“Are you saying that… she was your master twice? Like I was?” he asked. 

Sebastian grinned, his demon teeth were now showing and there was something deeply threatening in that. “To say “twice”… would be an understatement, my Lord. But since you asked me to tell you about her, I shall tell you about our last Faustian contract. It’s the most fresh one, and it will serve well to help you form a solid opinion about Evelyn as she is right now. Shall I begin?”

Ciel leaned back. For the first time since he became Master for Eternity, he was drawn from his apathetic state… and deeply intrigued to learn about whatever his servant was about to tell him. 

He listened carefully.


	8. In Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have finally arrived! What possibly awaits them in the Realm of the Dark Ones? Read to find out! :)
> 
> Read this chapter on my DA too: http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-In-Flames-pt-7-595496241?ga_submit_new=10%253A1457566190

BLACK BUTLERS - In Flames (pt. 7)  
by galateabellator, Mar 8, 2016, 6:40:11 PM  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

**PART 7 – IN FLAMES**

_**Warning: Mentions of animal-sacrifice, disgusting monsters and people burning. Nothing you can't handle, really ^^** _

The carriage was now moving through the thick forest, covered in mist and accompanied by the loud sounds of heavy rain and roaring thunders. The nature was bending under the unusually large drops of water and occasional pieces of frozen ice that were making the storm dangerous for anyone who happened to be outside. The weather was nothing short of a catastrophe, but the carriage of the strange trio didn’t seem to be affected by it in any way. Other than frustrating beats of the ice at the top of the carriage, that is. Adrielle didn’t appreciate the thunders either. She wasn’t a big fan of storms in general, not even when they were conveyed by her friend, the witch. 

“You should have just told me about the blood. I would have understood,” she insisted, leaning her head against the leather seat. She has heard Evelyn’s soft voice replying to her remark shortly after.  

“I know. I was just curious. You like the Spider, don’t you?”

The spider demon was currently managing the carriage, so the girls had all the necessary privacy and liberty for these kinds of stories without being over-heard by Claude.

“I can’t like him, he is a demon... and I am tired of repeating it all over again to you. He isn’t exactly a husband material, or anything.”

“Because he is not a regular creature? Come on. Let’s be honest. If he was a human being, you would allow yourself to fall for him,” Evelyn smirked. 

“Maybe. And maybe I wouldn’t. But he is what he is and I won’t bother with imaginary scenarios, or what could have been if he was any different. You should know…” 

“Oh, I do know. You can’t bring yourself to love him because he isn’t normal. Because he isn’t mortal. Because he wouldn’t be able to give you what you ultimately want, despite all of his powers. Because, out of all, you would ask for one thing he can’t really give you.”

“Evelyn… just stop, will you?”

“No, I see your point of view. It’s a good one. You have a duty towards your family, your reputation, and your name - not necessarily in that order, but there it is. I understand that. But sometimes, the desires of the heart aren’t following traditional patterns, nor do they favor the desires of our minds,” Evelyn reminded her. “He is dangerous, though. Alluring, but dangerous. I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, but I am afraid you will eventually, if not already, fall for him anyway.” 

“You are speaking from experience,” Adrielle crossed her arms on her chest. “It happened with you, I get it. But hey. Let’s not talk about Claude like he is a potential candidate for anything other than a partner in a mission. There’s no need to complicate our relationship any further… despite what I may, or may not feel about him. It’s pointless, and I don’t like pointless situations, or wasting my time.” 

“We are only having this discussion because I need to deliver a warning, for your own good. I sense something… developing between the two of you. Something similar to affection, but even stronger. 

There was ground for that before, ever since the beginning, and ever since you were working for that Trancy boy. And that feeling… some might mistake it for passion, or even foolishly call it ‘love’. I know it’s too early to tell, but still. As your friend, I feel obliged to warn you nevertheless.”

“This is coming from a woman who has slept with demons, reapers and warlocks. You don’t get to lecture me on relationships, Eve.” Adrielle rolled her eyes. “And please, don’t act like I will jump into his bed or something just because he attracts me.” 

Once she had realized what she’s admitted, Adrielle covered her mouth and her face turned red. Evelyn laughed, and affectionately put her hand over Adrielle’s own palm.

“That’s exactly why I am talking like this. He attracts you, and for better or for worse, there’s some wild fascination from him towards you too. I am also sure that he, himself, can’t pinpoint what it exactly is. Hunger? Another exceptional soul to devour? Maybe even curiosity about your body? But remember… out of all others, I am the one who knows exactly how useless and painful it is… to love a demon. They are shells. They don’t have a real concept of emotions, just glimpses and echoes of feelings that they twist to their convenience. They are creatures of urges, not emotions, and they are usually driven and motivated by hunger.”

“Aren’t humans the same? Motivated by different kinds of hungers. Ambition, for instance. Power. Glory. Sometimes… it seems as if we are worse than them.”

“I am not denying that. Just… be careful. I can only protect you from him so far,” Evelyn sighed. 

Adrielle glared at her friend. “What does that even mean?”

“That you are a free-willed woman in a demi-contract, and he is really tempting. He would fool someone who is both more cunning and more skillful than you or me. You might give in into his charms. No judging here by any means, just to let you know.”

“And if I did, what would you do?” Adrielle asked.

“Why, comfort you once he’s broken your heart and cast a really nasty curse upon him afterwards, of course. What are the friends for?” Evelyn joked. 

“Oh, just shut it, already. It’s not like it’s ever gonna happen. And while we are so brutally honest with each other… what were you hiding in that crystal of yours? What has that stranger handed to you before you’ve summoned the storm?”

Suddenly, the driving had stopped and both the Countess and the Thief-Mistress looked towards the seat of the coachman, currently occupied by Claude. He opened the glass behind that particular seat, and explained the situation briefly. 

“One of the horses has just collapsed. I think its heart will give out any second now. The rest of these animals are exhausted, and I dare say… pretty scared. They won’t be able to continue this journey, Mistress Waldram. They won’t be able to return either.” 

His golden eyes were fixed on the raven-haired woman. She returned the gaze and they shared a silent understanding that was beyond Adrielle’s comprehension in that moment. 

Evelyn took her cloak and covered herself before going out in the rain to join Claude. 

“The realm of the Dark Ones won’t support the souls of the living. I should have remembered it applies to animals too,” Evelyn sighed. She pated the closest horse, mournfully watching the tired eyes. 

“What shall I do?” Claude’s calm tone sent cold shivers down Adrielle’s spine, in a wrong way.

“Our presence… demands sacrifice… right?” the Crimson Countess asked. 

Claude simply nodded. The Countess’ eyes started glowing yellow. 

“It’s better if you looked away, dear,” she told Adrielle before returning her eyes towards Claude.  
   
“Mr. Faustus… let’s sacrifice.”

“No!” Adrielle wanted to stop him once when she’s realized what the Countess has ordered him to do, but Claude acted swiftly. His reflexes were too fast, and too sharp. Using his claws, he ripped the necks and took the hearts out of those poor animals… and ultimately  threw them in front of Evelyn’s feet. The hot blood was evaporating in the cold rain, flowing in all directions. It was a quick slaughter, that made Adrielle sick to her stomach. She has seen a lot of brutal things, murders, all kinds of tortures… but there was something really sad about killing a helpless animal.

Evelyn leaned down, and took the first heart into her hands.

**\- - - - - -  THE PHANTOM CASTLE  - - - - - - - - -**

“They are here. Can you sense her, Sebastian?” the boy asked, holding an empty teacup in his lap. 

The servant apathetically looked in the distance.  

“I can, my Lord. They should be near the gate in less than an hour. Do you want me to intercept them before they approach the manor?”

Ciel Phantomhive has shortly played with the handle, and finally smashed the cup in his hand. Sebastian approached him with the handkerchief, and wiped the blood away. Ciel's expression hasn’t changed the entire time. 

“No need for that. Let them come.”

**\- - - - -  IN REALM OF THE DARK ONES - - - - - - - -**

Evelyn has split the hearts and formed a hexagram out of them. She has thrown the salt over each heart, and took a position in the center of the created shape. She was chanting again, with both hands lifted up in the air, and two flames rose from both of her palms, forming a large fire balls on top of them. It was a strange fire, the one that hasn’t burned out under the rain, or ice. Evelyn was good with her spells, and with her magic.  

She has used the fire to burn the hearts, and the smell made Adarielle sick again. Evelyn has finished chanting, and all of a sudden, a strong wind has spread all over the area, spreading and scattering the magical ashes of burned hearts all over the carriage, and the three passengers in their places. 

Evelyn made the fire disappear with a single motion of her hands, and returned to the carriage as if nothing happened. Claude has also climbed back in the carriage to join them, once there was no need for a coachman.

“Why the Hell did you do that?!” Adrielle demanded, deeply saddened, and angered about the actions of her companions. 

“Because we are roaming the very realm we were not supposed to enter, yet alone _roam_. All kinds of dark creatures are here, just waiting for fresh, living meat and blood to feast on. And demons. No need to explain what kind of effect we have on them. So, to stay here, we needed to pay the price. We need protection. This was the way. Besides, those horses wouldn’t have survived anyway, you have seen the state they were in. What Mr. Faustus did… was a form of mercy, really.” 

“I thought we were about to use my blood for the realm?! What mercy? It was all BUT mercy!” 

“Don't be so dramatic now. We will need your blood to reach the manor, dear. It’s an entirely different kind of blood magic which I will have to perform there, so keep your strength.” 

Evelyn has closed the door behind Claude by snapping her fingers. The carriage has started moving on its own, as if the invisible hand has somehow pulled it towards. Phantom horses were pulling it now. 

In less than an hour, just like predicted, the three of them were in front of a certain gate.

\- - - - - - - - -

Evelyn went out first. She has reached the gate and opened it, and Adrielle and Claude followed. Nothing happened, and it made Evelyn somewhat surprised. She was-half expecting something to happen already.

“Where are they?” Adrielle whispered. “The place seems… abandoned.” 

“It only _seems_ abandoned. And it’s exactly like… in my dream…” 

“Mistress Waldram. We are not alone,” Claude warned. 

Adrielle, who has heard nothing despite her sharp, but human senses, pulled her knives out. Just in case she needed them. 

“Evel…” she was in the middle of saying her name, but a high-pitched scream swallowed the rest of the word. And that scream didn’t belong to Queen of Thieves.

It took a moment for Adrielle to realize that she was in Claude’s arms again. He has shielded her from something big, ugly, so ugly that it seemed like a creature from her worst nightmare… and possibly, worse. She was absolutely sure that, in not even in her wildest dreams, she would be able to imagine something so ugly and so terrifying. It had a lot of sharp teeth, long claws and warm, stinking breath. It also looked like some sort of deformed dragon, without wings and with a really long tail. It had some nasty blisters, wens and lumps all over it’s rough skin.  

But it wasn’t the creature that lured Evelyn’s attention. She seemed like she couldn’t care less about the horrid monster in front of them all. She was watching beyond, in a pale, tall figure in black. She wasn’t smiling this time. The creature roared. 

“Is that…” Adrielle asked, but she was interrupted by Claude’s sudden move. The tail of the monster almost pierced right through them both, but Claude evaded it in the last second. 

“Yes. It’s Sebastian Michaelis,” he responded to her verbally-unformed question. “And this creature is a decoy. She will have to choose.”

He has jumped again, and shielded Adrielle from the venomous claw by putting his body in front of her. The claw has torn his rain-cloak. Claude has thrown both the cloak and the hat away, leaving only his butler uniform underneath. He has fixed the glasses on his face and prevented another attack from the beast. Adrielle has successfully thrown her knife into the eye of the beast, who started roaring again. She was so glad to have demon-blades, it meant that she will be able to produce damage to the beast, for it was demonic too, and hence able to regenerate. Its eye has not started regenerating, though, and she was glad about being right. 

“Evelyn Waldram. It’s been a while,” Sebastian greeted his old master, and she has weakly smiled. There was something utterly painful about her expression, that almost made Adrielle look away. 

“It’s been years, _Sebastian_. Now, I see that your manners had worsened with time. Keeping guests outside of the manor is considered to be quite rude, from both the master, and his butler. Don’t you think so?” Evelyn repelled the attack of the beast all on her own by the simple whoosh of her hand. Sebastian’s eyes were glowing now, and the glow was something between red and purple. He was still smiling at her, softly, affectionately. 

“What I think, my dearest Mistress Waldram, is of no importance. Master Phantomhive’s orders were clear. I am just following them. He simply wants to greet you, and wishes you a warm welcome.”

The creature’s mouth has opened. The flame that followed was long ranged, and large. 

“Please, enjoy your stay… no matter how brief it turns out to be,” Sebastian added. 

Claude has literally pulled Adrielle up, and saved her from being burned away.

“Mistress Waldram?” Claude has turned his eyes towards the Countess, asking for instructions. She had to choose, and it was either… for him to protect Adrielle… or to engage into a fight with Sebastian and leave Adrielle to her own, against the monster. The Countess could protect her, but the options were tricky, because she had to protect herself too. 

“Well, if the boy wants to play… we will play,” Evelyn said, and threw herself right in front of the monster, in close distance. The fumes rose high. The flames reached her, consuming her whole figure, and Evelyn Waldram screamed. It was horrible. It was unforgettable.  

“EVELYN!” Adrielle yelled, and Claude had to stop her from making a move towards a Countess, who was now burning and still screaming, from the bottom of her lungs. The monster was following, unable to withstand the agony of her voice. She was the daughter of a banshee, after all. 

“So, that’s how it’s gonna be?” Claude has muttered to himself. He has taken a blade from Adrielle’s arm and made a giant slice over her palm. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her head with chaos. He pressed her hand into a fist, and made her drop the blood over the stairs they were standing on. He was drawing a symbol. Sebastian’s contract symbol. 

But she didn’t care about the wound, or the blood, or their location. She was watching Evelyn burn, and Sebastian was coming towards Claude in fast motions, characteristic to demons. At this rate, the two butlers will engage in fight, as predicted… but she will be left to that monster. Will she be the sacrifice foretold, or was that part already fulfilled by Evelyn burning alive? The first demon-blade was still stuck in one eye of that monster, and the other was still in Claude’s arm. 

What can she do? After all, she was just human. Human girl. The most powerful witch of London was burning alive in front of her very eyes, so what was she able to do in face of something this horrid? 

Adrielle didn’t know, but she didn’t want to wait to see either. She has forcefully taken the blade from Claude’s hand and with one precise movement, she has threw it – hitting Sebastian right after he appeared next to Claude. His eyes widened. It was a demon blade. 

Naturally, it was a pure instinct. She wasn’t really thinking. And if this was some kind of a rescue mission, the one that Evelyn planned so carefully… she guessed that they have just entirely, majorly, royally and outrageously... screwed it up.


	9. Mea Culpa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian vs. Claude, and a bunch of decisions xD 
> 
> Posted on DA: http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-Mea-Culpa-pt-8-599618165

BLACK BUTLERS - Mea Culpa (pt. 8)  
by galateabellator, Mar 28, 2016, 7:15:33 PM  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

**PART 8 – MEA CULPA**

_**Warning: Graphic content such as violence, two demons fighting, people burning alive, and being devoured by monsters. Consider yourselves warned.** _

Screams of pure agony filled the whole area. As flames were melting the skin, the hair, and the flesh away, only the voice echoed… but that resonance didn’t last for too long. The monster moved, attracted to the burned flesh - and in first motion, it took the entire arm. It started crunching, and soon after, lured by the taste, greedily took another bite. 

Adrielle had to look away. She fought the urge to vomit, and to scream in despair. It took all her strength to remain collected. Evelyn was quickly disappearing in front of everyone’s eyes, until Adrielle wasn’t able to look anymore... but Sebastian was watching the entire time. He seemed cold and distant throughout the whole thing, and quite indifferent. But that wasn’t supposed to surprise anyone. He was a demon, after all. 

He pulled the blade out from his shoulder, and dropped it on the floor. It made a loud clink. The black blood had stained his uniform – not drastically, but it was visible - and he was suddenly very, very calm. 

Claude has stepped away from the symbol of Faustian contract that he had previously drawn on the floor, and licked his black-nailed fingertips that were still covered in Adrielle’s blood. This awakened his senses, transforming his eyes into demonic ones. They were now glowing with threat.

He was no longer ruled over by two masters, but one - and he was now fully committed to protecting her, by all means necessary. The bond grew stronger. Tighter. Claude felt it as some kind of fist, clutching around his dark heart. And Adrielle felt it too. 

She has gripped the fabrics of her dress, clutching it in her hands. Thinking. This new feeling meant that Evelyn had really sacrificed herself, ultimately giving up her life… but for what cause? To prevent that monster from eating anybody else? It was pointless. She didn’t understand it. She just couldn’t. 

And while she was desperately trying to figure out what to do next, Sebastian has, without any warning, rushed towards them. Claude suddenly stepped in, conveniently shielding her from Sebastian, and blocking a few intentionally fatal moves that were aimed at young redhead. Claude amazed her with his speed, and his reflexes, and his unwavering resolve to protect her. Just then, she had realized what a true protection of a Faustian contract meant. 

Claude was mirroring Sebastian’s own moves, preventing him from reaching towards Adrielle and harming her. The wound she inflicted upon Sebastian still hasn’t taken full toll on her target, though… and she was now officially worried for Mr. Faustus, despite all of his strength.

“Bounded by the Queen of Thieves now? How ironic,” Sebastian’s soft voice held some sort of mockery, but Claude didn’t seem to be particularly offended by that remark. 

“Do I hear disapproval, Michaelis? She is as good Mistress as any,” Claude responded in the same manner. “If there is any irony in me entering another contract - it honestly escapes me.”

“Allow me to enlighten you, then. Both of you served the same master, that Trancy boy. And now, the former maid Roseville acts as your new Master instead. You have stooped low, Claude Faustus. Degraded yourself to a level of being a servant’s servant. What does that make you?”

Claude’s expression changed and he was now smirking. “A demon, for one. I see that being a butler for so long messed up with your primary nature. So, let me remind you, Michaelis… it doesn’t matter whom you serve, as long as the soul is strong, has quality, and has that alluring aroma that attracts our kind. I was never a picky one. Ranks and titles don’t matter to me, or to real demons for that matter… just to arrogant weaklings who can’t arrange proper meals to themselves, so they accept being less than nothing while hiding behind lame excuses of serving the high and mighty. I would rather serve a soul I can devour, than serve a soul I am unable to consume. And despite of serving a noble lord, it seems that you will remain hungry for eternity. But again, it might be a preference, that necessity to starve forever. Wasn’t your previous master the Undevourable One too?”

Sebastian wasn’t offended either. It seemed that both demons were above insults at that point.

“She was, but my contract with her is solely a matter between me and her – you don’t need to concern yourself with it. But then again… who will fulfill the demi-contract now, when the Countess has vanished?” Sebastian humbly pointed out. “You will simply have to serve Mistress Adrielle instead, for she has just become your official Mistress. Yet, she isn’t the type who will willingly sell her soul, no matter what. Hence, you two are both in a forced contract in this moment. Which kind of brings us in the same position.” 

Adrielle frowned, and got up on her feet. Things were much worse than she had imagined them to be. She has really become a full master to a demon, all thanks to a dying witch. That made her frustrated, and sure as Hell was a lot to take in at once. 

“It brings us somewhere, but where exactly, and at what point… remains to be seen. The Countess always has a few tricks up in her sleeve. You, above all, should know that,” Claude has exclaimed before attacking Sebastian in a fast, almost furious manner. Sebastian fought that force with calm expression, his eyes glowing like two rubies. The two demons engaged a real, serious fight, and maneuvered each other’s tactics on equal footing. They were like one person, fighting its reflection. The one knew all the movements of the other, predicted next attack, and blocked it. Again. And again. 

But Adrielle kept the prophecy in mind. Sebastian will have the upper hand at some point, and she hated it. She wanted Claude to be safe, and to leave that place alive. She has reached towards the first dagger, and looked for another one. 

After seeing that Claude won’t give up on protecting the girl, Sebastian has made a short break. His eyes were fixed on Adrielle, and he was deciding what to do with that stubborn girl. Kill her, or bring her to young master? Devour her, maybe? 

Claude, who followed everyone’s actions thoroughly and carefully, found this offensive. How did that rude demon even dare to think about devouring Mistress Roseville? No one would take that soul away from Spider. Especially not this particular Crow that once killed him over a meal. Therefore…

“Michaelis. For a soul you deem unworthy of devouring, you surely seem to look upon with greedy, hungry eyes. Avert your gaze,” Claude demanded. The tone of his voice was mostly monotonous, but held some discontent somewhere in there too.

“Faustus. I hope the irony doesn’t escape you this time, for the cycle is indeed repeating. You have once sought to devour my young master, and even made a contract to compete me for it. Should I do the same?” Sebastian teased, and blocked Claude’s arm. 

“I wouldn’t allow it. She is mine.”

“Really. That aside… who would have thought that you would be resurrected, and by none other but my former master? The odds are really in your favor, not to mention the fact that you just had to bring some help along. Was it due to your fear of being defeated again? To increase your chances of winning? Whatever the circumstances, you are as unfair and as weak as ever. It’s so… unsightly.”

“As is the fact that you were brought to a level of an eternal servant, and stripped away from possibility to devour your master’s soul, yet again,” Claude noted. He fixed his spectacles.

“And you? Resurrected, then forced into a demi-contract, and then forced into a full contract with human who won’t give up her soul, which basically made you enter useless contract once again. Are we really that different?” Sebastian asked. “Because, from where I stand… it looks to me that, in every battle, you end up as losing party, Faustus.”

Sebastian was still bleeding, but if he was in pain, he hasn’t shown it. Adrielle was back on her feet, and her attention was divided between two butlers, and an approaching monster. 

“Mistress Roseville. Your order,” Claude demanded, aware that their situation only grows worse with each passing moment. 

What was she to do? Tell him to somehow kill the monster and try to fight Sebastian on her own? No. That would probably result in her death. She has had a bigger chance with fighting the monster herself, than fighting Sebastian one on one. Simply because, between the two… the monster didn’t have intelligence, nor could read her moves as quickly as Sebastian did. 

Then, should she just… tear Claude apart between defending her, and fighting the demon?

“Go to the castle, and get Ciel Phantomhive. We are proceeding with the original plan,” Adrielle has made a few continued pirouettes, and danced around the monster. She has taken the blade from monster’s eye, quickly removing herself from the close range… but it has burned her arm after opening those enormous, horrid mouth. She had almost screamed. But she was fully armed, and her mind was clear. Her opponents weren’t human, true… but she will give her best to defeat them with all that she had.

“You won’t pass this gate, Spider,” Sebastian said, and has blocked Claude’s swift motions towards the door by putting himself in front of the second butler.

“Close your eyes, Mistress Roseville. Things are about to get ugly,” Claude has warned.

“I have already seen many different, ugly things. I think I can manage.” 

Both demons dropped their human appearances, and started fighting in their full demonic forms. 

Adrielle was both shocked and wordless after she had witnessed their transformations. 

“So vulgar, these creatures,” a voice came from the darkness, almost as if it was reading her mind. Adrielle has lifted her head towards the balcony, and saw a boy.

Young count Phantomhive, now demon himself, had leaned onto the stone fence and was watching the show with, sort to say, amusement. 

“To think that I am one of them now too... makes me quite displeased, though to use that word wouldn’t really be accurate if we take into account that the whole specter of my emotions drastically narrowed down. I don’t know whether I really feel a thing anymore.” 

Claude lifted his head towards Sebastian’s master. Ciel spoke again.

“Yes. Ruined. Captured. Destroyed by the Trancy and his servants. Condemned to remain undevoured, unable to get my revenge. It’s actually pretty safe to call it frustrating,” the boy continued, looking down at everyone with contempt. 

“And, if I may add… I am quite dissatisfied with the fact that a simple fire monster could put an end to supposedly so powerful… if not the most powerful witch that I have heard so much about from my loyal dog. She was supposed to be stronger than this. Were you lying to me, Sebastian?” 

“No, my Lord,” Sebastian answered, “but you did ask from me to find the strongest fire monster to stand against her. You wanted your game, and I have seen to it. Your order was fulfilled.”

“Indeed, it was,” a voice came from a small pile of ashes that was still evaporating. The part that wasn’t devoured by the beast. Adrielle’s heart has skipped a beat because she would recognize that voice anywhere. The grains rose, and were aimlessly swarming at first, but then grouped to form almost solid, female shape.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“I should have assumed that your parlor tricks would come in handy – especially in here, where dark forces are the strongest. Your magic is every bit as dark and as black as this place. You fit in perfectly,” Ciel laughed as he was looking down at the black and grey shape of the infamous Countess Waldram. 

Claude and Sebastian had both stopped fighting, and waited for their masters to give orders to them.

“You came a really long way, Countess. Or should I just call you Eve, like in good old times?” the young master asked. 

“Eve will do. I came a necessary way, my dearest Count. It was my duty as well as it was a necessity. The Queen will attest to it.” 

“Oh, dear. Was it for me then, for your old acquaintance and your precious protégé… or was it for your long lost servant?” Ciel mocked. 

“For both of you, really. I just can’t leave things as they are,” Evelyn’s answer came too fast.

Ciel’s eyes started glowing, and his smile got wider, and more terrifying.

“You should have. Because, from the looks of it… you are going to die here.” 

Evelyn's smile grew wider too. 

“But I already have, my dear lord. I have died _right here_ , and made my sacrifice.” She has laughed again. It was eerie. Ciel blinked. 

“But you still stand. How many times do I have to order him to kill you, really?” the boy seemed genuinely intrigued. 

“You can order him to kill me as many times as you want. And he will, for he is bound to you by that awful contract. But he is bound to me by something else. Something that is _far more complicated_.”

“I am well aware, as I am well informed. He has told me,” Ciel smiled devilishly again. “And just when I thought that his existence couldn’t get more miserable. How pathetic.”

Sebastian’s eyes were cold as ice this time. Expressionless, almost… but he was affected by that statement. Evelyn noticed. 

“It is what it is. I am more dissatisfied to see what you have been turned into, Ciel Phantomhive. I will undo it. You are an ugly creature now, and I came to fix it.”

“Let me guess. You will do it out of respect for me? Or for the Queen? _Or for my father_?” Ciel demanded. “Be honest when you deliver and answer.” 

Instead of answering to him, she has turned towards her friend. 

“Adrille. That monster. Kill it,” the shadow woman ordered. 

Adrielle wanted to protest, to say how she wasn’t really able to kill the beast only with two blades that she held. But suddenly, the weapons in her arms started growing. They were prolonging, and were changing into two large swords.

The ashes finally fell down, and the witch rose in her full height. She was naked, but her long, long hair, that was once tied in half-bun and lifted up, was now unbraided and has covered all the critical points of her body. Everything about her was intact. Like she had never burned alive in the first place, and like she was never torn apart. Evelyn rose her hand. Her eyes were fully white, and were glowing. Adrielle has heard the voice, though the witch wasn’t talking out loud. She was speaking with her mind. 

_“I revoke the power dormant. I call upon my servant. I revoke my last demi-contract. By its power, I give you strength. By its power, I give you health. By the same power, I give you regeneration. In the same manner, I make you a half-demon. I give you these blades too, so you can finish what you previously weren’t able to. And by the power of knowing your real name, I am ordering you - kill that creature, and bring me its head too.”_

Adrielle has felt the strong urge to fulfill the order. She has never felt like that before, never felt that need to do something so passionately and without having any second thoughts. She was also aware of her large strength, and had all the necessary confidence to end the creature once and for all. There was no fear. No hesitation. Nothing at all. Just an order, and a fulfillment of that order. She has jumped again, and slashed the creature’s body. The dark blood spread all over the ground, but Adrielle just kept slashing, and cutting, and cutting… until the head of the creature has rolled, and it finally stopped moving or making any sounds at all. She has made it. She has brought it down. All on her own. 

“Behold, Sebastian! The power of your precious witch,” Ciel has smirked once again. “And there I thought that she will bore me to death. Isn’t this amusing?” the boy asked.

Sebastian’s gaze met hers. He was grasping his wound, which was now fully bleeding because he was in his real form. They were both in their awakened forms, actually. She was no longer just Evelyn, no... 

What was standing before him… it wasn’t just the Crimson Countess, or an ex-Mistress, or that lost child from the East End of London all those years ago. This was a pure force. An ancient force of a soul who was thousands, and thousands of years old. Very much like him, and every bit as dangerous as him. 

Ciel observed their actions, and their reactions. It was fun to watch. Finally something to relieve him of his boredom, he thought. Evelyn was first to avert her eyes away from Sebastian’s. 

“Claude Faustus,” she rose her hand and offered it to her servant. He has left Sebastian’s side and stood next to the witch. He was in mess, his wound has re-opened too, and he had trouble to breathe… but he stood next to her nevertheless. He was in worse condition comparing to Sebastian. 

“By the power of the demi-contract, I command thee. Lend me your strength, your memory, your experience, your everything...” 

He knelled in front of her and she touched his face.

“You foul creature…” Sebastian whispered, under his breath, “what binds us… still stands. Have you forgotten? Regardless of what Faustian contract or demi-contract you form… ours still _binds us_.”

“ ** _Mea culpa_** *,” the witch grinned. “Yes, you are right. It still does.”  
(*My fault/ The fault is mine)

“Sebastian?” Ciel called. He seemed confused.

“Evelyn… what are we to do?” Adrielle had to ask. Claude was next to her side again, waiting. 

“Stay here, and watch. Both of you. Don’t intervene,” her response was short. 

Evelyn started walking towards Sebastian, but was looking at Ciel while doing so. 

“ _The Undevourable Soul and the Cursed Demon_ , that’s who we are, what we are - and we will settle this matter once and for all. Only one can rule over him, but mind mind my words, Ciel. No demon, no soul, human or otherwise… can break us away from each other. Not even if we enter different contracts.” 

Her hand reached towards Sebastian. “Not even if you enter the Eternity Contract with a Demon Boy. I still have a hold over you, don’t I?”

Sebastian hasn’t spoken in return, but his eyes held such a sorrow, raw and primal… something he had never shown before, in front of anyone. It enraged his young master. 

“He is mine,” Ciel stated arrogantly. “I died. I turned. We are the ones who are bound forever, not you and him. He is linked to me, with bond so strong… that it will never break. I am sorry if that disturbs you, or if it offends you in any way. But it is what it is. He can’t devour me, he can’t leave my side, nor can I leave him either…”

“Are you trying to convince him, or me, or yourself, Ciel?” the witch asked. “He has just admitted his subordinance to me. I’d say it makes me his one and true Mistress.” 

“We shall see about that,” Ciel said. He squeezed his walking rod, gripping the top of it with his hands. "I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

She has just smiled. It was almost toxic. Ciel had enough of that smirk. 

“As your master, I order you. Kill the Countess, Sebastian!” he has shouted. 

In an instant, Sebastian stood behind her, his arm prepared…

“I am sorry, Mistress Waldram…” he whispered, “… the order is clear.”

And with that, he has drown his sharp, clawed hand right through her heart. She has fallen onto his arms, and he held her body close. The darkness surrounded them both.

“Sebas…tian…”, she spoke his current name, and blood rushed towards her mouth and soaked her.

“ ** _Mea culpa..._** ” his response was soft.


	10. Better Of Two Evils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted on my DA account as well. Visit the link here: http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-Better-Of-Two-Evils-pt-9-602877836
> 
> Here are some answers to some questions! (Such a creative description, I know :P) ^^ (Abellona was briefly mentioned in the chapter 3, and here's more-detailed explanation about her) :)

BLACK BUTLERS - Better Of Two Evils (pt. 9)  
by galateabellator, Apr 13, 2016, 5:03:16 PM  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

**PART 9 – BETTER OF TWO EVILS**

_**Warning: Graphic content, but nothing too violent or explicit. Consider yourselves warned.**_

“CIEL PHANTOMHIVE, YOU DAMN BRAT!!!!” Adrielle yelled, with pure rage emitting from her eyes. “SHE CAME HERE TO SAVE YOU!!” 

“She came here for her own, selfish reasons, lady Roseville. Let’s not make a martyr out of Evelyn Waldram, for she is everything but one.” 

Sebastian was still holding Evelyn’s body in his arms. He was covering himself and that woman with the pair of long, black wings that were growing out of his back. His eyes were completely black too, except for the pupils which were still the color of magenta. His hands had those razor-sharp claws, and a pair of long, curved horns was spiraling up from his head. He looked tad like some fallen angel - beautiful, but deadly, still covered in blood from the wound he bestowed upon his witch. Despite that eerie, evil look, he carried her with gentleness. His lips have whispered, but no sound was audible to others, just to her. 

Ciel kept talking to Adrielle. “Don’t mistake her reasons for compassion, loyalty, debt, duty, or anything of the sort. She was here purely for one thing: power. She came to reclaim my butler from me and force her hand to her liking. She came here to end my life.”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!!” Adrielle was frustrated. “SHE WANTED TO SAVE YOUR LIFE! SHE DOESN’T NEED SEBASTIAN AT ALL, YOU FOOL! THEIR CONTRACT ENDED A LONG TIME AGO, SHE DIDN’T EVEN HAVE A NEED FOR HIS POWER!”

“Then you are the foolish one here, lady Roseville. Sebastian, is she finally dead?” Ciel asked.

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian immediately responded. She wasn’t breathing anymore, and her heart wasn’t beating. She was dead, once again, and it was his fault this time. 

The body was still warm. Her skin was milky-white, a strong contrast to her thick, dark, black hair… but both those parts of her were soft and familiar to him. He knew her scent, her body, every scar, every curve, every single inch of the entity that now called herself “Evelyn”. She was now tainted in crimson, her favorite color. Her blood smelled like iron, or some other metal. She was witch, but she wasn’t immortal… and he was aware that her path would end this way, sooner or later. However, knowing that didn’t make things any easier. On the contrary.

“Are you absolutely sure that she is dead, servant?” Ciel’s voice was sharp. Stoic.

“Yes, my lord,” Sebastian’s answer hasn’t changed. 

But how many times will it happen? How many circles of pain, betrayal, and sacrifice will they have to endure until it’s finally over? 

“You can get rid of the body. You shall find another meal for me soon enough,” the boy stated, and turned on his heel. The sound of a sudden movement made him stop going back into the chamber. 

She was standing on the fence of the balcony, her temporary-obtained, new-found demonic movements were powerful, fast and precise. Adrielle pointed both of her swords towards Ciel.

“Let me remind you of one thing, brat,” she started, in a calm tone. “She was the only one who could have fixed this mess, this shitty situation, and your lousy butler. He was wounded with a demon-blade, much like Claude, and now, there’s a great possibility that the both of them will die because you were selfish little bastard who kept whining, and ordering around for your satisfaction even when you knew that she could have helped. You are the one who choose power. Not her. Keep that in mind when you remain all alone after damn Michaelis rots away.”

“My, my. Lady Roseville is angry. What should I do to ease that anger, I wonder?” Ciel mocked, despite having sharp blades crossed, and almost closed around his neck. 

“Go and die,” she said harshly. With the slightest, almost untraceable moment of hesitation, she has closed the blades… but Ciel’s was fast enough to get away on his own – his speed outmatched hers. He dodged just in time, keeping both his head, and his body intact. 

She was just a forgery, a pale imitation of a real thing – the imitation of a demon, but not a demon. She was made in Claude’s image, but she wasn’t the real deal. Her own power was induced by the power of the demi-contract, but that was that. They both knew it wouldn’t last, and especially not now… when the witch was gone. In addition, the brat was a real demon now, and his own speed and reflexes were twice as good as hers. She has slashed throughout the air, and nearly got him this time, but Ciel disappeared again, at great speed, and switched the place he was standing on for another. 

“And you are in MY territory, Miss Roseville. The parlor trick is disappearing, it’s wearing off, and you are turning back to human. Whatever time she has bought you… it’s running out. I can tell you are feeling it too. So… Sebastian…” 

“No,” another cold voice interrupted the fatal order. A long, thick white thread reached towards Ciel, and the boy had difficulty do dodge it skillfully. Especially when the second one appeared next to it. The threads were elastic, and kept moving through the air like in a hand of a puppeteer. Claude has aimed again, in a really fast manner, and things became more complicated for the Young Count. It was becoming really hard to avoid them. Ciel looked down towards his servant.

“Sebastian!” 

But his shout came too late – the Spider demon has already captured the demon Boy, and Ciel was trying his best to break free from web that was forming around his body. In some other time, and some other life… this would have made Claude really content. Almost ecstatic. But… he didn’t feel anything now. The boy was just an empty shell, a soulless monster such as himself, or Sebastian Michaelis. The essence of his soul was changed, modified into something… vulgar, corrupted and inedible. Claude simply didn’t have the same desire to devour this creature, despite the previous allure he once possessed. He wondered how it must have been for Sebastian all of this time. 

“Don’t let him escape, Claude!” Adrielle cheered, and Claude just nodded towards the girl. He pressed the threads tighter, and held the prey in his grasp. 

“Sebastian! Release…” Ciel tried to give an order, but he never got to finish it. 

A scream echoed throughout the air. A scream so powerful that it froze the blood of every single creature that has heard it. Then, that blood flowed. Black blood showed, dripping from Ciel’s ears. The same was happening to Claude. Adrielle has covered her ears with her hands, but it didn’t help. Blood was coming out of her ears as well as theirs, only hers was red, and human now. It has started coming out of her nose too. 

Ciel started shouting in unison. It was painful, terrible, and it seemed like it will never end.   
Sebastian was still holding her. His face was the closest to the source of the scream, so he took the biggest damage. His ears, his nose, his lips, his eyes… were all covered black, gleaming liquid. His pain was enhanced, but he still held the body, and kept watching the young Countess. 

She was dead. He made sure of it… but her corpse was screaming, her mouth were opened, as well as were those pupil-less eyes… because something has triggered, and reanimated her. The soul wouldn’t leave, for the soul was Anima clausa… so this was just a side-effect to it all. For an ancient curse from a few millenniums ago. He should have known.

After an endless agony, the screaming has stopped. Adrielle’s eyes were filled with tears, but not because she was sad, or angry, or happy. No. Those tears weren’t caused by emotions, they were caused simply by that horrid scream. She has wiped them away and rubbed her eyes. 

Claude has handed her a handkerchief, and she has started wiping the blood from under her nose, and from under ears. Claude has taken her down from the balcony in a single jump – something she wasn’t able to perform anymore on her own because the power had finally drained off in her. 

“Well played, Eve. Well played…”, Ciel’s voice came from a distance. 

The witch looked towards the boy. Sebastian helped her to get on her feet, and she leaned towards him. He lowered his head down, his lips softly separated as he uttered the name. The first name to give them pain. She has pressed her hand against his cheek, and caressed the rough skin of a demon. She was the one who uttered the second name in response. The name that gave them despair. A hot tear slid down her left eye. The red lips parted. 

“Do you really remember?” she whispered a question. 

“I do…” Sebastian removed the tear from her face, and tasted it. “For how can I ever forget?” 

He has grabbed a handful of her hair, and pulled her towards him. It was a savage move, so unexpected, so raw and primal. He licked his lips. She did nothing, she just kept standing in his grasp, unable to move, and unable to look anywhere but into his eyes. 

“I despise you… for all you’ve done. For all you’re about to do…” Sebastian whispered. Their lips have almost touched. The witch started chanting, in that eerie tone of hers. 

****

**_

“To access my oldest Contract  
I revoke the Eldest Spell.  
Heed my call, oh Abellona…  
Bring him to me, back from Hell…”

_**

****

The ground started shaking. It felt like a minor earthquake. 

****

**_

“He was taken, made another’s;  
He no longer serves to me.  
Remind him of who I once was,  
Make him conscious, make him see…”

_**

****

The poem was continuing, and while so, a large force seemed to press Sebastian, and bend him. It seemed like an invisible hand caused him to lower down, down in front of the woman, until he fell on his knees, and bowed down. His teeth were gritted, and his fists clenched. 

“So… this must be… what she was talking about…” Adrielle whispered, shocked.

“I was aware that Mistress Waldram was an Anima Clausa… but this…”, Claude was surprised too. “I wasn’t aware that Michaelis… or her… were under the Abellona’s Curse. It is… truly…”

“Wait, what does it mean?” the red-head wanted to know. “What, or who is Abellona?” 

“According to myths and legends… she was the first witch to ever walk this world. It may be exaggerated but… according to various sources, her power was so grand that people called her Mother of All Witches. She is considered to be the First Witch, almost a deity. Also… it is believed that she was the first one of her kind who made a contract with demon. Surely, you know of Faust? First human to enter a contract with the devil? Hence the term “Faustian”. Well, this is the same thing, but Abellona was the first _witch_ to enter a contract with demon. The powers were mixed, new sorts of contracts, such as demi-contracts, and triumvirates, were formed… all in all, it has started with her.” 

“Oh…” Adrielle gasped. Ciel was looking at the two creatures in the distance, and he couldn’t decide whether Evelyn and Sebastian hated each other, or had affection towards each other. There were too many factors thrown in to decide. He sighed. 

“So… Evelyn is using Abellona’s curse to revoke her previous contract, and make Sebastian obey her again? How’s that going to make her his official Mistress again, over the power of your Never-Ending Contract?”

Ciel responded: “I have asked this question before, upon learning about her powers in the first place. Sebastian’s answer was... intriguing, to say the least. My butler and Evelyn have been in many contracts, not just in one. So, let’s say that she is asking for supremacy as his most frequent, and most demanding master. The cumulative amount of her power is… exceeding everything else in his line of contracts, when measured. Those two… are practically condemned to one another. It’s all thanks to that curse, of course.” 

“What?!” Adrielle froze, and her eyes widened. Claude wasn’t talking at all, he was staring at Evelyn now, and pieces of mystery seemed to fall to their places. Adrielle was looking at Ciel. 

“You are saying that they have had ANOTHER contract prior to her Faustian contract with Sebastian?! That’s impossible! She wasn’t even a witch until she married Robert!”

“She was _born_ a witch, but her powers were either taken away or blocked away by her mother. That Seer, Natasha. When Mistress finally awoke, she took her revenge on her mother and hexed her. That’s why the older witch… is buried alive in a living nightmare in Funeral Parlor,” Claude deduced, finally adding to that strange conversation. 

“I know that! But I am saying, she couldn’t be in a Contract with Sebastian multiple times because she only had one contract with him to begin with!” 

“He told me there were multiple contracts,” Ciel corrected her. “And here’s how. She can die, despite being a witch. But every time she reincarnates…” 

“When she WHAT?!” Adrielle was starting to lose her patience. 

“Reincarnates? Meaning, is born again?” Ciel offered, and he was losing his patience too. 

“…” Adrielle blinked, annoyed by how complicated things were in general. Witches and their damn magic.  

“She is the Undevourable One. He is cursed to enter the Contract with her, but not to devour her. In every life they meet,” Claude raised an eyebrow. “That must be one Hell of a curse to deal with for Michaelis.” 

“Wow. Oh my… wow. That sucks for him. It really… sucks…” Adrielle suddenly felt sympathy towards Sebastian. “That Abellona really knew how to hold a grudge. But here’s the real question. Why… were Sebastian and Evelyn cursed in the first place?”  

“That’s the thing. He doesn’t really know. He can’t remember,” Ciel sighed. 

“The fuck?” Adrielle was mortified now. “It’s all really fucked up!”

“He is cursed to forget his masters over time. I mean, he remembers fragments, events, faces here and there… but Evelyn… he remembers her the most. Not all about her, but most of things about her. They are usually bad ones, and bring him distress, or even pain. Why? Even he doesn’t know. He is not sure why it has to be her over and over. He assumes it has something to do with Evelyn being the descendant of Abellona, for there's a great possibility that she is, but he is not sure.”

“I’ve heard about that part,” Claude stated. “A demon who entered the first contract with Abellona… didn’t held his end of the bargain and wanted to forcefully devour her or something like that. Maybe for her power, maybe for her soul. Maybe for both. Anyway, she has repelled him, barely escaping… and in vengeance, she has crafted that infamous curse. Any witch from her lineage who dares to enter a contract with demon, any kind of demon… is going to end up cursed as badly as the said demon. It makes sense that Mistress Waldram is one of Abellona's descendants. Especially since she can channel her power so well.” 

“Dear Lord,” Adrielle shuddered. “Hell really hath no fury like a woman scorned.” 

“Indeed,” Ciel cocked his head to the side. “Who knows how and when Evelyn met Sebastian, and how their first contract looked like… but each time, with every new contract, he is left hungrier, more frustrated, and more desperate. Over time, I’d dare say it will even drive him mad. Honestly, I am surprised he is still sane, if we can say so. But I guess that, the fact that Evelyn’s life usually ends in some kind of tragedy, brings him some amount of fairness. Balanced scales. Call it as you will. She usually dies a really painful, and slow death.” 

“That's sick. But that’s why you wanted her killed,” Adrielle stated. “Because, if that part was full-filled, and if she died… you would remain his Master until her next incarnation. And she ultimately wouldn’t be able to take him away from you, because you'd be more prepared.” 

“Unfortunately for me… she will always manage to take him back, only if she wants to - like in this case. Her claim… although under the curse, and enormous amount of power… is the strongest, comparing to even of all of his previous human masters combined. Or a single, demon-master that would be me. I knew that I didn’t stand a chance unless I got rid of her.” 

“But you did. She _has_ died,” Adrielle whispered. “And twice, if we keep counting. First, by her own decision. She threw herself in the flames.” 

“That was to trigger the curse,” Claude explained. “She activated the first seal of the Curse when she incinerated her body. She suffered something called _The Witch’s Death_ – being burnt the same way as her ancestors, including Abellona - at a stake.” 

“But then… she had allowed Sebastian to kill her again. Wasn’t that supposed to reincarnate her or something?”

“It should have, but it seems that she found a way around the rules. Through her infamous blood magic, could be. All I know… is that it was just another trick. And if _he_ was aware, I don’t know… but, by drawing his claw through her heart, Sebastian triggered his part of the curse – the part of magic which recognizes it as _Demon’s Betrayal_. He practically agreed to re-enter the Cursed contract when he did that.”   

“He was forced to do that. BY Ciel. Or have you forgotten?” Adrielle remineded them bitterly. “It was you who helped him trigger that part of the curse. Splendid work, my lord. Just magnificent.”

To her surprise, Ciel chuckled. Sebastian was still kneeling in front of the Crimson Countess, but his eyes met Young Master’s gaze, like he was reading his mind. 

“Better of two evils, huh?” the boy mocked. “Well, well. It seems that the game… was lost from the very start for me.”  

His servant didn’t have an answer for that statement.

“Stand up,” the witch’s voice resonated. After he did, she put a hand of his shoulder and she spoke his name… his _real_ name, and Ciel knew… that he no longer claimed ownership over the demon that was once Sebastian Michaelis.

The Crimson Countess pointed towards Ciel. 

Now released from any bonds, any shackles that previously held him tied to his Young Master - that _creature_ he almost couldn't recognize as his butler, it rushed… the witch smiled… and suddenly… everything turned pitch-black.


	11. PAST TRANSGRESSIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are lacking Adrielle and Claude this chapter, but bear with it for now ^^ This isn't as long as the previous one, because I am busy and unfortunately don't have much time for writing these days. 
> 
> ON DA: http://galateabellator.deviantart.com/art/BLACK-BUTLERS-Past-Transgressions-pt-10-644917596

BLACK BUTLERS - Past Transgressions (pt. 10)  
by galateabellator, Nov 9, 2016, 3:13:17 PM  
Literature / Fan Fiction / Drama

CHAPTER 10 – PAST TRANSGRESSIONS

Warning: Nothing to warn you about this time, this chapter is free of violence, gore and other delicate themes. :)

\------- Streets of London ---------

“Did you hear? The Phantomhive Lord… turns out to be alive.”

“The boy, or the father?”

“The boy, you fool. The one who was just recently declared dead.”

“It’s hard to keep track on who’s deceased in that family, I tell you.”

“Well, I couldn’t agree more. Some rotten luck in their lineage. And a damn… tragedy. It’s a good thing that the boy still lives.”

“Yes, but how come the boy’s still alive? Didn’t he leave all those hart-breaking notes, bidding farewell and foreseeing his own death?” 

“Turns out, he was targeted, and forced to forge those notes. It was all a big fiasco. But fortunately, he was saved, and by none other but the Crimson Countess.” 

“No. You don’t say. No way.” 

“AND his butler, per usual. I swear, there’s just… something about that man…”

“Not quite normal. Agreed. It’ actually beneath everything I perceive as normal, I dare say – and he is not the only one I perceive that way. She is too.”

“The Countess? I hear she is dangerous. Better stay out of her way.” 

“I know, I know... rumors are… that she is a pretty twisted little thing. Just looking at her gives me the creeps. Women shouldn’t be given that kind of power… or luxury, for that matter.”

“Don’t let the Queen hears those words. She is very fond of Countess Waldram, not to mention that she is a woman in powerful position too.”

“I highly doubt the Queen would pay any attention.”

“The Queen might not, but if the Countess hears… you will be in trouble.” 

“God forbid.” 

“Exactly.”

“Well… let’s go. We will be late for the afternoon’s tea, and it’s no good when it’s served cold. Right?” 

“Indeed, my friend. Indeed.”

\- - - - - - - - - - - -

PHANTOMHIVE MANSION, late afternoon

The clumsy maid almost broke the platter with cups, and desert. The woman in royal-blue dress just sat in her high chair, and observed how the man in black attire saves the situation with a swift movement of his gloved hand.

“My… my apologies, my lady,” Mayreen apologetically bowed, “I am t-terribly sorry. Sebas… tian… I am awfully embarrassed.” 

“Good lady Mayreen, it’s alright. There’s no need to bring my tea when we have the dearest Sebastian around to do so. You may go back to your regular duties, and tend to the boy. He needs you more than I do at this moment.”

“Y… yes, my lady. I shall do so. I… I apologize!”

“No need, dear girl, we have avoided the disaster,” Evelyn smiled. Sebastian dragged Mayreen on the side, grabbed her sleeve and whispered to her.

“Look after our young Master, will you? Someone needs to be near his bed, to keep an eye on him, and be there just in case that he wakes up. I prefer it to be you, rather than anyone else.” 

“I… I will, Sebastian,” the maid promised. “I will do so! He shall be protected!” 

And just like that, she has rushed towards the corridor, enthusiastic about guarding the young Count Phantomhive. 

Evelyn took the small porcelain plate, and took a bite out of delicious desert that was prepared for her, supposedly by the Phantomhive’s handsome cook named Bard, but something about that decoration seemed awfully familiar.

It was one of the most delicious pies she has tasted in her entire life. Crispy, yellow crust was perfectly baked over several layers of grated apple, sweetened by sugar and lemon juice. It was decorated in the most appealing manner, and smelled equally well. Just like she asked. 

“It’s perfect, Sebastian. Just like I expected.”

“I am glad it’s to your liking, Mistress.” 

In very elegant manner, suited to a galant servant, he sipped the hot tea - an orange and cinnamon flavored mixture – and poured it in beautiful, floral porcelain cup. With two extra cubes of sugar, he was serving it professionally in front of her. 

“This… role of a butler… really suits you,” Evelyn pulled a strand ohe her hair and removed it from her face. She smiled. “But again… which role isn’t perfect when you are the actor?”

His facial expression hasn’t changed.

“Who knows, Mistress.” 

He put the teacup in front of her. 

“Shall I return to Waldram manor and leave you here, to take care of the boy? Or should I stay and keep an eye on both of you?”

“Is there really any point in asking? You will do as you please, my lady.”

“That, I shall do. But we are talking about what you want. Aren't we, Sebastian?”

He paused before turning his eyes towards her. 

“What I want, nobody can give me.” 

“Depends on what you want. Maybe I can give you something after all.” 

“You can give me master Phantomhive, once when he awakens. I shall be in contract with him yet again. I know you would make it so. However, I am not sure that's what I want. Not while you still live.”

“So, you'd have me die?” she smiled. 

“I would have you lift the curse. Release us both. But that's not something I can ask of you. Is it?”

“I am not sure,” she was completely honest. “Though I am more than willing to find a way to break the enchanted circle. We should make it our priority.” 

“True that, my lady. But we will have other worries on our minds.”

“Such as... your young master. But he will be fine, at least for now.”

“Young master is in good hands. I was referring to you.”

“Am I not in good hands?” Evelyn teased.

“You are in a forced contract. Of course you aren't.”

“You would hurt me.”

“That, I would never.”

“Liar. In each and every contract, you tried to consume me.”

“It's in my very nature. But you knew every time that I would try. Why act surprised? Why paint me villain?”

“You do it well on your own, but I must say, this black butler act that you are pulling is doing... wonders. You are even more appealing than usual, yet you had some amazing roles back when you used to lure me out. You used to be a… tutor in our previous contract. And God, how handsome you were in your gallant suit. And before that, you were…” 

“A military officer.”

“With a splendid uniform, and ferocious attitude. Formidable, really. And before that…” 

“A museum’s curator.”

“Ever the wise, and ever the polite one. Well spoken, and exceptionally smart. Also, handsome per usual, and much to my liking. No wonder I have literally lost my head for you. And before that…”

“I can’t really recall. Too many contracts with you at this point. I only remember those most vivid.”

“The same goes with me. But I remember you best in red,” Evelyn’s tone was spiced up with pure hatred, anger, irony, but also amusement. “That awful, striking red, and a tone of blood on it. You were exceptionally cruel. I made you to be too, so half the blame is mine, but you... my dear Seabstian... oh what you did, you terrible, traitorous creature... but that doesn't matter now. It really doesn't and it’s quite odd - isn’t it? This endless circle.” 

“It’s tiring, and there’s rarely anything odd to me. I’ve gotten used to almost everything.” 

“Almost,” she has repeated. “It’s such a funny, and ironic word, isn’t it?” 

“Indeed, my beloved Mistress. I haven’t dreamed about being close to you again, yet alone in this manner.” 

“Dreamed. To be fair, “a nightmare” would be more fitting expression, wouldn’t it? That is, if you were able to dream like the rest of us do.” 

Their eyes met. She was staring at him. Then, she smiled at him. 

“Just say it,” she took the cup, and took the sip. “You may say it, Sebastian.”

It only took a moment. 

“I am not grateful, though I understand you did it as an act of mercy towards the boy,” he simply pointed out. “I don’t like being back in your service. I don’t like being tied in contract with you, because you have always been, and you will always be… my torment.” 

“Ah, won’t I? Torment, the soul that you desire so much, yet cannot dine up. It’s not like I enjoy being the demon-bait all over again, I barely survived you the last time. But we like each other. Do we not?” she has smiled venomously. “What is it… that you despise so? The fact that you can’t devour me? The fact that, after all this time, I remain… the one you will never have?”

Sebastian lowered the silver platter. He also lowered his head down, wanting his crimson, glowing eyes to face her own. His glance was cold, and if she didn’t know better, she would have even thought that it was dangerous.

“Never have?” he whispered, and his lips curved up in a small smile. “Dear Mistress. I shall humbly remind you, like a loyal servant that I am… that there’s more than one way to have something. And I’ve had you, in all those… other ways that you will never forget. In other ways, I still have you. So, don’t act like this was an act of your choosing. It wasn’t deliberate. It wasn’t even what you wanted. So don’t put that façade of proud and mighty around me, for I see through you. I always will. Remember?” his words may have seemed bitter, but from his lips, they dripped like honey. Demons are often quite skilled with words, and their presentation. 

“Yet, here we are. Tied in a contract again. And I swore, like the fool that I am, that I would never enter another one with you. Or with any demon, for that matter. But look at us now.”

“It can’t be too bad this time, though. We know what to expect, and now we even remember our previous contracts. We have almost gotten used to them, have we not?” he has now seductively smiled at her. 

“And there’s that word again,” she smiled back to him too. “Almost gotten used to those, but never quite have. You will get your urge to kill me, and yet again try to drain my soul. And once again, you won’t be able to.” 

“Just as you will have the desire to use me for my powers, and use my skills. Yet you won’t be able to lift the curse.” 

“So then… what are we doing?” she asked.

“What we were forced to do. Enduring.” 

“It’s easy for you to say. I may not get out alive from this,” she pointed out bluntly. 

“Indeed. You have lost the bigger amount of your power when you broke my contract with my young master, and when you positioned yourself as my new… or better say, old, master… you will be a target to anyone who desires whatever remains of your power.” 

“Hah. Remains… though not big as my previous amount, there’s still a lot of it.” 

 

“But severely less than you’d hoped it would be. The great sacrifice you made took a lot more than you expected. Now, you need this contract because you need me to protect you. Yet again,” Sebastian politely expressed.

“No one would dare to come after me now. My reputation precedes me. Those fools who would dare to come after me might have to be very, very powerful in order to even try to bring me down.”

“But, there are. You were warned. Were you not? By the Seer. She has warned you about your enemies.”

“She was talking rubbish. She was trying to make me feel like she could be of some use to me.” 

“She was telling the truth,” Sebastian’s soft whisper floated in the air. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your enemies from shadows. The dark leader she has promised. The mention of a certain Coven. Remember, you aren’t the only one who practices magic and dabbles in the occult.” 

“She was telling the truth. It must be a first,” Evelyn was shocked, and had to take a moment to come to her senses. “How… do you know?” 

“I can tell. The dark threat that hangs over you… I can sense it. It spices your soul. Gives additional taste to the appeal. I can tell you are hunted already.” 

“Oh my. Care to elaborate further, Sebastian?” 

“Once you’ve opened the portal, something came with us. With me, you, Faustus, Mistress Roseville, and young Master. The surge of your power dragged something out, and they are after you. The Seer was trying to warn you about it all.” 

“Nothing is new under the Sun. I will just have to deal with that like I dealt with every other obstacle that was set in front of me. And until Ciel wakes up, you shall serve me instead.”

“He may remain comatose for years,” Sebastian said.

“More the pity… but if we have anything… it is time.” 

He softly chuckled. “Could be. But again, with such a threat hanging over you, it might not be safe to claim so.” 

“Well, you will be there to protect me. I am not worried,” she said. 

“You might have to be,” Sebastian’s tone was enigmatic, and he sounded amused.

“Do you know more than you are telling me?” she asked. “Speak plainly.”

“But you already assume what I am about to say. You just need a confirmation.”

“My assumption is based on my biggest fear. It is irrational, and virtually impossible. Are you saying that…”

“Yes, I am. You also know that, what I am about to say is going to majorly affect you, and you won’t like it. Not in the slightest.”

“Do tell.”

Even when she thought that she was ready and prepared to hear it… when he did, her heart stopped for a moment. He used that very moment to his own benefit. Contrary to his personality, to everything he currently represented… the strong urge dragged him, and he acted on impulse. 

And so, he forced a kiss. A kiss that she fought at first, but gave in shortly after. Drunk with the taste, his eyes glowed yet again. The witch and the demon were fighting for breath shortly afterwards. 

“It can’t be…” she was whispering, terrified. “It can’t be true… tell me it isn’t true!” 

Evelyn Waldram was rarely considered to be a weak, fragile thing. But after hearing what Sebastian had to say… after tasting it on his own lips… after she was sure about the threat that she had to face... her body betrayed her, and she collapsed in front of him. 

Maybe it was exhaustion. She lost a great deal of power to return them all into the world of humans. Maybe it was fear. Either way, she has lost conscious, and hasn’t moved since. 

“You may act powerful, and confidant, but I know how you are under all of it. That’s what lures me towards you,” he whispered, and picked her up. He has brought her to her bed, fixed the pillow under her heavy head, and that pale face… then, he covered her with soft blanket, tucking her in. 

Humans, even those who wielded powers… needed simple things such as comforting surroundings and warmth in times of distress. And what he assumed was after Evelyn… was no ordinary threat at all. It was a major distress, just like he promised it would be. 

“My poor dear… be prepared. What’s coming is really… going to shake you to the core.”


End file.
